#I feel somewhat embarrassed about this post

[angelpuns]

Just another day wishing I didn't live with my parents but having to because I can barely take care of myself

[cent-scratchnsniff]

More sketchy employee profile images. Mostly made to be able to replace the picrew I had in the template I made since I can draw. I did end up just putting it as back and white though but the color is just nice to have. I'm STILL trying to tweak the template since it is very finicky and there is an example of what it looks down below if you're interested. It is a lot. It will happen. I am just not the quickest

There are typos and inconsistencies I missed but in general it should be fine...

[synonymroll648]

if shannon writes a novella between books 3 and 4 and it leans a little closer to book 3 in the timeline i hope she names it:

book 3.3̄

book 3.33333…

book π

book 3.141592…

for the bit. especially the elongated forms instead of exact form. can you imagine trying to be the graphic designer getting the first 100 digits of pi onto a cover drawn by jason chan without completely ruining his art. it would be hell

[luxlightly]

I have to do everything around here.

No one was interested in my "Runs on blood Gabriel with long, blood dripping fangs" mental image that, I remind you, as with all of my visions, was given to me directly by God, so you all have to settle for this.

I simply think that Gabriel should get the Father's Light from consuming the blood of His creations and be extremely sexy about it.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

has it hit yuuta yet that if megumi is gojo’s kid then he is kind of megumi’s extremely distant uncle? Bet he’d reach for that to explain away his extremely normal protective attachment

#seaglassgardens

Not really, because he doesn’t consciously think of himself as gojo’s relative. Like, he’s aware that he is gojos super distant relative but the connection is so attenuated that he’s not really thinking of gojo as an actual part of his family, so it hasn’t hit him. But he would take literally any explanation to justify his extremely normal protective attachment to Megumi at this point

[caruliaa]

see the thing about the adults enjoying bluey thing is that part of me really enjoys it seeing both a show meant for very little kids but isnt talking down to them and also seeing an acknowledgment that the even if something is meant for a much younger audience that doesnt mean it lacks quality (and btw part of it is having a seven year old sister but i. am infact onr of those adults who enjoy bluey) but also as someone who was in the target audience (young child) for my little pony when i enjoyed it i am shaking like a wet dog a bit begging you people to please just be normal about this and not ruin it for the target audience okay thank you.

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!��� Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

How is this child so shaped

@sketchbookweek Day 3 - Sun & Moon / Family

you know I had to bring up my sketchbook kid Mattie for this one. in my mind this is like…impromptu midnight storytime bc someone woke up the entire household and now she’s almost settled no one wants to get up or go back to bed

(Kaisa has become a little more comfortable with openly doing magic by this point, partly because of reconnecting with Tildy in season 2 and partly because no matter how shoddy her spells come out, they never fail to entertain her kids, especially her youngest. Kaisa does the best stories in this house. no child can resist magic floating pictures)

[sugutiva]

❝ THREE IS NEVER A CROWD ! ❞ — ST & SG.

ᥫ᭡. synopsis : walking in to find your two best friends making out on camera was no surprise to you at all— but finding yourself sandwiched between them surely was.

tags : smut, p in v, threesomes, geto has piercings, cam sex, oral sex ( f & m receiving ), fingering, slight handjob, spanking, squirting, creampie, cum facial or wtv it’s called, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !

a/n : sugutiva posting twice in one month?! ٩(��ᗜˋ*)و

if someone had told you that your two loser best friends who shit-talks about everyone and everything they encounter, uncannily bicker like an old married couple, and secretly watches porn together was behind a famous camboy account, you’d wouldn’t be surprise at the fact at all.

you had always suspected that the pair were equally fond of each other— no matter how much they tried to deny it. but there’s still some sort of shock once you find them sloppily making out on the bed you were supposed to be having a movie marathon on, with a live audience capturing their lewd movements.

they only break away from their overbearing kiss once the grocery bag filled to the brim falls out your hand, and spills it’s contents on the floor. cerulean and violet eyes stare holes into your motionless form, clearly processing the embarrassing situation.

oh. this was honestly the last thing you expected on a friday night.

“ satoru? suguru?” you utter, curling your eyebrow upwards in disbelief as you take in the scene infront you; there sits satoru on suguru’s lap with nothing on but boxer briefs, meanwhile suguru is situated underneath him with no shirt but a pair of baggy black sweatpants. despite satoru’s imposing figure, you still had an inkling that suguru was the real dominant one out of the duo.

“ shit. fuck— um, h-hey. . .” satoru greets you with a sheepish smile. the wait of reality truly settles in because you’ve never witnessed him being slightly ashamed for anything he did or does. he unlatches himself from suguru’s body but there’s no point, you’ve already seen what you’ve saw. “ i didn’t know you’d come over at all—“

“ it’s a friday night, satoru.” geto deadpans before facing you with a serene smile, like you hadn’t caught them in the act of doing something lewd. infront him, there’s dozens of comments rolling in, and your eye catches them. some asked them about who you were, if you were the girl they often talked about, or if they’ll do another threesome again, this time with you.

knowing they’d regularly talk about their viewers to you made your body flush all over with a sudden throbbing temptation.

“ so . . . you two are camboys? since when?” even though you swore you were in a state of surprise, your body must’ve moved by it’s self, seeing how you take a couple steps forward until your somewhat towering over their tall bodies. gojo looks at you with surprise before twisting to amusement, while geto keeps his expression serene.

“ you don’t sound too disgusted or surprised,” geto skillfully avoids your questions calmly, and you grow nervous under their combined observant gazes. they were prepared for you to outright judge them for their shameful shared account, but instead you don’t. in fact, you look intrigued. “ i could be wrong but, i think you want to join us.”

you grow quiet and break eye contact. it’s cute.

gojo stares at you with a teasing smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you over closer, he mumbles. “ you wanna fuck?”

you attempt to speak but nothing comes out. it’s like that for a few seconds, you staring at them in dumbfound as they wait seemingly patiently for your answer. “ i— w-with me? a threesome with . . . all three of us?”

“ yeah, i mean, that’s literally the point . . . of a threesome.” geto quips back with sass, and you roll your eyes.

the answer is yes, written in bold letters as your back meets the cushion of the bed they were once on moments ago. it feels expensive.

gojo goes over to the camera, positioning it in a good angle that where all thousands of their audience can see with you bare with your legs sprawled out, and geto in between them.

his hot breath fans over you already soaked cunt presented to him, narrowly flashing you that shining piercing stamped on his tongue. “ you hear that, princess?” he brings his thumb to gather your slick from your leaking entrance before smearing it on your erect clit— just begging for his attention. or maybe for the both of them at once. “ you hear your cunt singing loudly for me?” his thumb repeatedly flicks at your labia, ringing out deep squelching sounds.

“ suguruuu, don’t play with our food now,” satoru whines, making his way back over to the bed once he has the right set angle. he gets down on his knees next to his partner, pushing your right leg further to make room for him. “ god, ‘m staaarved. keep your legs spread like that— don’t move them at all.”

before you know it, their tongues are fall into an automatic rhythm while slurping and thrashing at your drenched entrance. words cannot describe how good they are at skillfully eating you out at the same time— distantly, it makes you wonder how many times they’ve done it before you came into the picture.

“ fuuuckk!” your mouth drops open, feeling each detail of their tongues slobbering over you, now at different paces. geto languidly tongue fucks your hole; his tongue reaches so impossibly deep inside that you feel the outline of the cool piercing brush against the heat of your hole. while gojo quickly flicks at your clit in rapid succession, strings of saliva coating his own chin, dripping down so messily that they meet with geto’s occupied wet muscle. “ deeper, sugu, deeeeper! wan’a f-feel your piercing!”

“ hmph, suguru’s not the only one eating this sloppy pussy out. or are you too dumb to feel the difference between our tongues?” sensing competition, satoru slurps your whole clit in his mouth. his head shifts up and down as if he was sucking against something else— his tongue flicks out his mouth, much slower this time, accompanied by more saliva coating your pearl, only to be sucked in at the same time his tongue pulls back into his warm mouth.

the sight is nothing short of vulgar, and you’re sure the paid watchers are getting way more than what they expected.

geto pulls back from your cunt, but you don’t get to whine about the lost contact of his tongue leaving your opening when he easily slips two of his thick fingers in, resulting in a loud popping noise, and an even louder moan from your mouth. “ tsk. yer’ such a try hard, satoru. turnin’ everything into a competition.”

“ so? we can’t have you hoggin’ her all for yourself now,” his speech is noticeably slurred due to sucking hungrily on your clit. his mouth detaches from your aching bud, just to deliver a slew of mean spanks to make it twitch under his harsh ministrations. “ ain’t that right, princess?”

the painful sticky contact catches you off guard completely before it quickly brings you back into waves of pleasure. taken aback, you jerk your body away, although you don’t get any where near far because of your hole getting mapped out, and gojo’s iron grip on your hip. the confusing pleasure-pain entanglement has you feeling beyond lightheaded.

“ shit! y-yes, satooru! i wan’ t-the both of you!” your hands flies down in an attempt to pull away the hands causing you extreme pleasure— more than what you can initially handle.

“ yeah. slapping her pussy so she can agree with you definitely wins you more brownie points.” suguru dryly notes, “ we’re gonna break her already.”

“ i’d like to see you do something about it, suguboo.” satoru voice cuts in, the enthusiasm peaking in his tone that suguru lacks.

of course they’d bicker while turning your brain mushy threw your overworked cunt.

“ mmph— ‘m gonna squirt!” you shriek out, your body curves into a outwardly arch— that looks sexy albeit painfully from the camera’s point of view.

suguru starts thrusting his fingers again, even faster than before. satoru’s head dips down to your clit to give it a spit filled kiss before lapping it up into his mouth entirely like before. a tight but slightly uncomfortable pressure builds in your lower stomach.

your surprised that your voice hasn’t given out, considering of how loud your moaning both of their names as they write their conjoined love letter over the expanse of your cunt. “ fuh— fuuccck . . . o-oh!”

your nimble fingers finds home in gojo’s pristine locks of hair. he nibbled on your clit abruptly, and that was your end. your body freezes in your arched position before breaking out into tremors as clear fluids squirts from your body.

“ how cute, our best friend has such a sloppy pussy on ‘er,” suguru’s voice purrs with amusement, watching intensely as the juices that sprays uncontrollably from your body coats the entire half of satoru’s lower face, with some reaching the duvets underneath your bodies.

your body collapses back down on the bed. there’s a brief pregnant pause in the room— you barely notice that it’s because of satoru swapping your juices that he held in his mouth into suguru’s in a deep kiss.

gojo uncharacteristically whines as geto grabs a fistful of his hair to tug him closer— this whiny boy cannot be the same person that just made you paint his face in your vigorous fluids. there’s a brief glimpse of their tongues twirling and touching each other’s, like how they did on your cunt moments ago. suguru pulls from the kiss while also pulling his drowned fingers from your hole, soundly. he presses the certain digits on satoru’s warm tongue, expecting him to suck on them.

which he does, with a submissive moan. “ suguruuuu,”

as they continue to make out, it makes you throb all over again.

satoru chases after his fingers once suguru pulls them away. his brattiness is short lived when suguru yanks his hair to make him face your wrecked form. “ ah ah, don’t be greedy now. we still have a pussy to break again.”

the dynamic assigned with their pornographic persona fits them perfectly— suguru is labeled as the no-nonsense top, while satoru is the bratty bottom that will crack under pressure if pushed enough— no wonder why they’re so famous.

your body is situated into the iconic doggystyle stance. you see the lap of satoru, his boxers briefs are saturated a shade darker than it originally was, credits to his sticky pre-cum making itself known. your hands slowly spring his cock free, and satoru sighs shakily from above you.

you licked your lips, staring at your best friend’s astonishing length. he stood tall, even though it slapped against his stomach, you could tell that it reached far past his belly button; his tip flushes an angry red along with a eye-catching pearly bead of cum that makes your pussy clench around nothing— for now. no doubt, the sheer size will have your jaw aching for days after.

“ no need to just ogle at it. ‘s all yours babe, heh.” gojo chuckles cockily, watching you gawk at his freed dick.

you had temporarily forget the owner of such a pretty cock, had such a blabbermouth.

you glare at him from underneath your eyelashes, you harden the tip of your tongue and push it against the vein bulging from his skin, trailing your tongue all the way upwards until your reaches his slightly swollen tip. there, you take the fat head in your mouth, giving it a harsh suck that makes satoru groan and throw his head back.

geto settles from behind you, giving your rounded ass a heartfelt squeeze before slapping the jiggly skin sternly. he stops to pump his own hardness as he slaps the tip against your sopping folds, noisily— this is how you figure out he has an prince albert’s piercing, when he’s close to using it to turn you drunk on both lingering cock’s. “ waiting on you, pretty girl.”

spreading your legs more, you push back against his base. the curve of his cock presses against your mound, a silent telling that you’re ready for him, and he takes it exactly like that when he suddenly sinks into your warm walls with no follow up warning.

oh god, is he fucking thick.

from the obvious feeling, you can tell that he has more girth to his cock— thicker than gojo’s, but not quite as long.

geto grunts, his gruff hands gripping tightly at your waist as he thrusts forward. his pierced bulbous tip immediately hammers into your sweet spot. the forceful pumps that he delivers to your much smaller body, has your stomach tightening with fulfilled hunger, causing you to mewl around gojo’s cock.

and the vibrating sensitivity is so dizzying to the latter. “ keep fuckin’ her jus like t-that,” his abs flexing and clenching in your field of vision. you hollow your cheeks in and relax the tight muscles in your throat, so you can consume more than just his meaty head. “ oh fuuuuck, baby. you’ve got such a d-deadly throat on ya,”

“ don’t tell me you’re going to cum already now.” geto teases, composedly watching gojo’s reactions. he’s since then propped one leg up on the bed, diving deeper into your pussy even further. “ hey. once his tip starts twitching he’s about to—“

“ shut the f-fuck up,” his strained voice doesn’t come off sternly than what he expected as you trail your tongue down, leading to his tender balls. “ n-not yet— can’t do that, ‘m gonna cum too early!” you pay his words no mind as your hand moves up to stroke up and down on his copious length.

by now, you’re purely relying on geto’s strength and your other hand placed on gojo’s firm thigh to keep you upright. geto leans forward, his chest pressed against your back while the hands once grabbing and slapping at your plump flesh strains your hips. the new position creates more of an absolute mess out of you, along with the heavy balls stuffed in your mouth.

you push back against him every time you feel his pelvis collide with your forgotten clit in sticky thrusts, the contact gives you a distant amount of pleasure but it’s not near enough. “ you desperate for something? how bout you ask me first, then i’ll make this pussy drown my cock.

a tease is the perfect word to describe geto— he knows what you want, but still decided to make you spell it out for him. painstakingly.

“ i want you to t-touch me,” he gives your body a jagged thrust. he wanted more, for you to be more specific. you grumble before complying. “ i w-want you to touch my clit, suguru, pleaseee!”

his hand creeps in between your parted thighs, fingers toying with your throbbing clit in fast paced, tight circles to match the speed of his own hips. “ like this? you like havin’ your clit played with while you give your other best friend head?” his voice is pitched an octave lower pressed to your ear, the purring sensation makes you push back against him, searching for your pending orgasm. “ heh. what a greedy slut for cock.”

“ ‘m gonna cum soon, princess.” gojo jaw clenches as he breathes out, nostrils slightly flaring due to the doubled pleasure; your hand pulls and twists in up and down motions on his cock, your saliva helps guides your hand as your mouth is currently occupied with him. he doesn’t let you stop or pull away even for a moment as his fingers cards through the locks of your hair, pulling and pushing them closer. “ c-close your eyes, baby. wan’a paint your pretty face in my cum for the viewers.”

you had briefly forgotten that all of your obscene doings are being captured. dozens and dozens of donations roll in, but you can’t focus on that. not when your senses are clouded with only impure thoughts of your two best friends.

you listen to gojo’s order— and you’re glad because moments later, galloons of his sticky cum paints your face in a translucent base. “ g-good girl, oohhh, you look so pretty like this for m-me.” he cups your face with one hand, while smearing the leaking slit of his tip against your lips. your tongue dips out to lick the bitter yet somehow sweet substance.

the black haired, determined man pulls at your arms, fucking into you faster, initiating broken gasps to leave your throat with every push. “ suguruuu, ‘m so close. i . . . fuuuck, gonna cum!”

“ you like it rough, yeah?” he gives you another awakening thrust, and that’s your end. your head throws back against his broad shoulder and he turns his head to latch on your neck.

but he still doesn’t relent. not until he comes next.

making your head bobble and your pleasure quickly bleed into overstimulation, until your restricting walls triggers his own climax. with a harsh bite on your neck; geto cums, while consuming down his pornographic moans. and it’s a plentiful amount.

“ o-oh shit.” his jaw ached from how hard it was clenched and the muscles in his thighs flex. his fingers on your clit slow, eventually dropping their pace “ yer’ so t-tight. my dick feels like it’s going to fall o-off . . .”

his cum is so warm and it makes you feel full inside, he ruts his hips up erratically to make broken hiccups escape your mouth before he eventually stops.

the salacious mood calms down as you’re busy catching your breath with the weight of geto on top of you— you don’t even realize the camera is in your face until the familiar notification sounds are too close up.

bleary-eyed, you looked into the camera from under your eyelashes. the seductive scene of satoru’s sticky cum covering your face couldn’t be anymore intoxicating to ingest.

“ i think we have more room for another person,” gojo’s cerulean eyes meets his companion’s. “ what d’ya think, suguru?”

[ellecdc]

HEAR ME OUT

former fboy barty who is now madly in love with reader and reader is like his first actual serious girlfriend

ARE WE SEEING THE VISION

I'M SEEING THE VISION HERE YOU GO; also, it's a continuation of this post but can be read as a standalone

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who doesn't do 'casual' [1k words]

CW: brief mention of past harassment, mention of past sexual encounter but nothing explicit and SFW

Barty said goodbye to Evan in way of putting his hand against his mouth to get him to stop talking and then shoving his face away from him as he started taking purposeful strides for you. 

He’d only opted to come to class today in hopes of seeing you, and he’d only deigned to hang around afterwards so that he could talk to you after you finished speaking with the Professor.

Barty had been struggling to get you out of his mind for over a week now ever since you approached him in the club asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend, which ended in a very enjoyable romp afterwards.

And he’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping for another tryst as he pulled the door open for you before you’d even had a chance to push it; a look of wary surprise crossing your face before it melted into a smile.

That smile made him feel funny. 

“Well hello, my darling girlfriend.” He teased as he fell into step with you. 

“Hello, Barty.” You chuckled as you gently nudged him with your elbow. “Alright?”

“Fantastic, thank you. I’ve been thinking about the fun we had the other night.” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, smiling in that way of his that he knew usually got him what he wanted.

You simply smirked knowingly and raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Fleeing from a bar without paying your tab?”

Barty scoffed and waved you off. “My dad owns that bar, it’s fine. No, I meant what happened afterwards.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you scrutinised him. “You mean when I thanked you profusely-”

“-multiple times-” Barty amended, earning him a salacious grin from you.

“-multiple times, for saving me from that creep?”

“Precisely.” Barty agreed with a nod. 

“That was fun.” You admitted, to which Barty quickly agreed. “But I don't think so, Barty. Sorry.”

“Oh… oh! Okay…erm, may I ask why not?” He sputtered as he took two long strides in order to catch up with you as you continued walking across campus. 

“You may.” You relented simply, smirking when you saw Barty roll his eyes from your periphery. 

“Okay…why not?”

“I…listen, I had fun and I don’t regret it, but I don’t usually do…casual.” You admitted, looking embarrassed for all intents and purposes as you stared down at Barty’s shoes and chewed on your lower lip. 

“Casual.” Barty parroted, fighting the urge to relieve your lower lip from its torment and, perhaps disturbingly, afflict it to his own torment. 

“Right, I…I don’t usually do casual sex, that was uhm…that was a one time thing for me.” 

“Oh, so…so, you only have sex when you’re dating someone?” Barty concluded.

“Right.”

“Great. Go on a date with me.” 

You barked a laugh as you continued walking, only to turn and see that Barty wasn’t following nor was he laughing as he was really quite serious.

“Are you-…you’re not serious, are you?”

“Mmm, nope, I’m quite serious, actually.” He responded.

“Barty.” You huffed somewhat chidingly. “I’ve never once seen you speak to the same girl twice. Well, save Meadows, but I’m quite certain she likes girls, so.”

Barty simply shrugged at you, not seeing at all what the issue was here. “There’s a first time for everything, no? I’m standing here talking to you for a second time, am I not?” 

“I’m just…I’m looking for something serious, Barty.”

“I can be serious!” He argued rather petulantly. 

“I’m not going to ask you for something you might not be capable of giving me.” You sighed.

“Are you challenging me? Is this a challenge? Because I’ll have you know I’ve never once lost a bet.”

“I’m not challenging you, Barty.” You laughed affectionately at him. “Monogamy and commitment isn’t your thing, and that’s fine! I’m not judging you or blaming you at all; I just think we might want different things.”

Barty stepped forward so that he was standing but a few inches from you, forcing you to look up at him. “Well, what I want is you.”

“You want me right now.” You whispered back; some of the fight clearly leaving you as you searched between his eyes.

“I’ll prove it. Let me prove it to you.” He insisted, daring to push some of your hair falling from its restraint away from your eyes. 

You sighed somewhat sadly as your bottom lip threatened to jut out. “I’m not worth breaking your rules for, Barty.”

“I think I can decide that for myself, no?” He murmured back.

He had to admit this is the softest he’d ever been with anyone before, but it was also the softest he’d ever felt with anyone before.

He didn’t usually get caught up on people; not like this, not like you. 

But you awoke something inside of him that night when you darted out of the sea of bodies like he was the last life raft of a sinking ship, your eyes wild and desperate as you clung to him.

He was always down for a ruse, so when you’d asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend he was more than happy to cause a little chaos. But when he’d heard you were scared, harassed, bothered? Well, the deep, black, protective rage that had him nearly fusing your body to his was something completely foreign to him.

He wanted more of it.

He wanted you.

And if this is what you needed from him? Well, he’d be that for you. 

“Teach me? I’m a quick learner, rather clever too.” He asked as he tilted your head up by your chin and forced you to look at him. 

“I…I don’t want to be an experiment.”

“I don’t either.” He agreed. “I just want you to be mine.”

You searched his eyes for a few more moments before letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“Fine, but I will be teaching you and there will be a quiz at the end of this so do keep up.” You hollered at him over your shoulder, though your small smile gave away the fact that it was all for show.

“Don’t you worry, treasure; I perform very well on tests.”

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for  around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!! 

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt. 

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of. 

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so. 

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life. 

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.” 

You mirror their gesture as well. 

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is. 

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case. 

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor. 

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time. 

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?” 

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle. 

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together. 

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor. 

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you. 

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.” 

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.” 

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?” 

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.” 

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?” 

“Yeah. Later.” 

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.” 

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.” 

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.” 

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago. 

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case. 

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him. 

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously. 

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate. 

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu. 

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill. 

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.” 

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.” 

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions. 

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers 

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there. 

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake. 

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.   

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already. 

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?” 

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.” 

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting. 

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary. 

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text. 

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you. 

You don’t really know how that makes you feel. 

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door. 

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again. 

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything. 

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”  

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app. 

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here. 

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay. 

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside. 

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird. 

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that. 

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual. 

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open. 

“Hi.” You smile. 

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?” 

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.” 

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.” 

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?” 

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.” 

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.” 

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.” 

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies. 

“Okay, Anton Ego.”  

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon. 

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him. 

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago. 

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous. 

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering. 

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little. 

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you. 

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.” 

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly. 

“__,” Sol calls beside you. 

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.” 

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer. 

“Okay. Just text me.” 

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office. 

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm. 

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text. 

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch? 

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend. 

You receive a reply a few seconds after. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __  I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks. 

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria. 

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure. 

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

“You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.�� You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.���

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate. 

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast." 

You laugh at his squinted eyes. 

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back. 

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

     — Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,” you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype

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[heartmaddie]

soft spot ! kageyama tobio , tsukishima kei , sakusa kiyoomi (seperate) incl ; post time-skip , fluff , mentions marriage (sakusa) , kageyama's is a bit sad ? , fem!reader

kageyama tobio ! “i need you ‘cause you’re everything that i’m not”

from the ages of fourteen to twenty-five, kageyama spent every night all alone.

with the absense of his parents, the death of his grandfather and his sister being frequently out of the house, kageyama was used to spending hours in solemnity to the point where he had to trick himself into enjoying it. that was until she had spent the first night at his apartment. after intertwined bodies and sleepy kisses shared between the two of them, it was more than just time with the woman that he had suddenly fallen in love with, but a small peek into the romance that he had missed out on due to his previous aversion to love.

he was addicted to her, addicted to her touch, addicted to the way her hands would brush over the skin of his muscular back which exhibited all the work he’d dedicated to his sport. everything about her was so different to him. her soft fingers and calming words, the way she carried herself with some sort of ethereal grace would completely contrast the monster which kageyama tobio was, or at least thought.

because when he was wrapped in her arms, head resting against the swell of her chest, he was someone else entirely. in his peaceful state of sleep, tobio was somewhat reminiscent of the little boy who had missed out on hours of slumber due to his fear of the dark, only amplified by the fact that he was all alone. so now he would greedily soak up any sort of affection she’d offer him as if it were a precious gold liquid that only he could obtain. whenever he found himself in her arms, his heart would swell to an impossible size, and it was almost like her warmth was chipping away at the ice which adorned his cold heart.

her love seeped through the cracks which dug deep. from the night terrors of his childhood to the loss of the one family member who truly loved him to the rejection of his teammates, tobio was brimming with unvoiced malaise. but only in her arms, was that pain finally taken away from him.

tobio would cling onto her as if nothing else mattered, because every night without her, he was brought back to the old reality which was sleepless nights alone, something he’d never want to experience again.

tsukishima kei ! “don’t believe in love but no one makes me feel like you do”

as of right now, her and tsukishima kei’s relationship was nothing more than quiet walks through the local art gallery with intertwined fingers or spending late nights together at the quiet library downtown as they worked together in silence, he was comfortable with that. he didn’t like the idea of being so dependent on another person, he even found it quite embarrassing when he’d see other couples cling to each other in public. he had voiced this opinion before, and it was mutually agreed upon between the two of them.

he had somewhat mentioned how he played volleyball professionally, but he didn’t tell her a lot about it - so he was quite surprised when he caught a glimpse of her signature beige trench coat and black knitted scarf, a large bouquet wrapped in her arms as she looked around curiously. before he even realised it, blood rushed to his cheeks, his teammates grinning and nudging them along as they caught sight of her too.

tsukishima let out a soft sigh before he walked up to her, taping on her shoulder and eyeing the bouquet quizzically.

“what’s that for?” he asked, his voice a low murmur with a hint of curiosity embedded between words. for a fleeting moment her eyes met him, a meek smile ghosted on her face as she awkwardly stuffed the bouquet into his arms.

“it’s a gift, for you,” she murmured, eyes trained down, just missing the flustered expression of her boyfriend. “a couple of friends told me that you had a game tonight and that it was pretty important or something..” she was embarrassed, her back was visibly tensed up. and tsukishima couldn’t help but wonder if he’s seen a more enchanting thing in his life before this.

it was almost automatic how he reached for her, bringing her face close to his chest as he carefully ensured to not squish the pink lilies cradled in the other arm. he buried his nose into her neatly styled hair, inhaling the soft scent which somehow matched her perfectly.

“thank you, it’s quite thoughtful..” he hummed, and he could feel the convulsions which pattered within his heart as he hesitantly brought tender pink lips towards her.

in moments like these, tsukishima pushed away the idea of being embarrassed, focused on the way her fingers intertwined with his as he embraced her. he smiled against her lips, suddenly overtaken by the unmeasurable swelling in his chest, and for the first time, he decided that maybe love would be okay if it was just with her.

sakusa kiyoomi ! “i hate to dance but i’ll dance with you, ‘cause i’d do anything to feel your touch”

in the dim lighting of their modern apartment, the two figures swayed in perfect sync to the 1960s jazz which played quietly in the background. the swell of her cheek was pressed against his hard chest, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as she inhaled the aquatic and woody accords which wafted around his upper body.

his arms squeezed her hips, moving together in endless circles. while she was focused on correcting her movements and not stepping all over his sock-clothed toes, his eyes were solely trained on her face. in the nighttime, and under the stars, the yellow moon cast a mesmerising glow over her face, and sakusa kiyoomi was enchanted by her. his eyes were unusually soft, his signature pouty expression gone as he found himself falling even more in love with the woman right in front of him as they danced under luminescence.

sakusa’s lips ghosted over the fat of her cheeks, pressing a tender, chaste kiss against soft skin, his arms moving to pull her impossibly closer, and he couldn’t help but smile when she melted into his embrace. if someone were to tell sixteen year old him that he’d find himself in a situation like this, he would’ve scowled or laughed it off. but now, in his full maturity as a twenty-six year old man, he would always seek the comfort and warmth of her soft body, he was almost yearnful for it.

he’s become content in the tranquillity of swaying together in the late hours of the night, he looks forward to it now. and when the record halted to a stop, his arms lifted her into the air, evoking a tired giggle from her chest before placing her languidly over the goose-down quilt and falling right next to her. his lips once again press a soft kiss against the nape of her neck, murmuring a small ‘i love you’, unheard to another’s ears as he watched her fall dormant.

his lips pulled into a soft smile, as he carefully lifted her left hand as if not to wake her up. his fingers rubbed gentle circles against the skin of her fourth finger, his heart beating impossibly faster as he imagined smooth skin replaced by the texture of the two-carat diamond ring which was buried at the bottom of his drawers.

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[sinofwriting]

Clingy - Ollie Bearman

Words: 1,211 Summary: Ollie just wants to touch his girlfriend. Which is a bit of a problem when the public doesn’t know about your relationship. (Requested)

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Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. The sky is blue, Charles Leclerc is a future world champion, and Ollie Bearman adores his girlfriend. Those are facts of life as far as he is concerned.

But honestly he dares anyone to not adore her. She’s perfect. Her eyes shine, lighting up and nearly glittering. She listens attentively to everything and everyone. Her hand perfectly fits in his. She always has a sarcastic comment on hand. He has hundreds of thousands of things he loves about her, adores about her, and they all make her perfect.

And it’s hard for him to pick one thing he loves the most about her. There’s the excitement on her face that greets him every time they see each other. Or how she rubs at his earlobe when they fly together. Maybe it’s how she knows all of his favorite things, from snacks, candy, music. But really, it’s the way she lets him cling to her.

He always has to be touching her. It embarrasses everyone they know, the way he just clings to her, gluing himself to every inch of her that he can. His parents, his mom especially, pleads with him to give her space, to let her breath, but he can’t help but touch. Her best friend, every time she sees them, always groans, telling them to get a room. Dino’s face screws up in disgust, usually mock. And she just laughs, running a hand over him, leaning more into him, silently letting him know that it’s fine and that she wants him to touch.

But now, she won’t let him touch, cling, and he pouts.

“Baby,” He whines, reaching out for her, but she stays where she is. “Ollie, if you touch me now, you won’t stop.” “I know.” Her hand comes up to rub at her chest. “And you can’t do that or fans will find out.” He shakes his head. “They won’t! We’re only around Prema and they all know not to post photos of us.” She looks unsure. “No fans will be able to see us. Please let me hold you. And I’ll stop as soon as we leave this area.” She still looks unsure but opens her arms, stepping forward and he quickly meets her.

His arms wrap around her tight, hands finding their way underneath her shirt, to get some much-needed skin contact.

“This is so much better.” He breathes, eyes closing as he lets the feel of her wash over him.

Thirty minutes later when they move to go to Prema’s motorhome, he doesn’t stop touching her. His arm slung around her shoulder, keeping her close as he kept dipping his head down to brush his lips across the top of her head, no matter how difficult it makes it to walk. He’s so wrapped up in her, and her in him, they both fail to notice the person taking a picture of them.

Then later when it’s dark and all the fans and press are gone, only the teams are allowed to still be at the track, a group of them all go to where the fans sit on camping chairs and blankets, sitting on the grass somewhat close together.

“This is nice.” She murmurs. He smiles, moving a little so she can rest against him. “Isn’t it? We don’t get to really ever hang out like this. I mean at restaurants and clubs, sure. But there’s never this many of us at the track together and chilling.” She looks around at the drivers that came with.

Dino, Paul, Jak, Christian and Pepe are all throwing something at each other. Luke watches them and is clearly trying not to laugh as they keep nearly dropping whatever they are throwing. Dennis is fiddling with his phone that's connected to the speaker he brought, Arthur standing behind him also looking at the phone screen.

“It’s a good group.” He laughs, “well, I would hope so since they are all my friends.” “You have more than I thought. Track friends.” She clarifies. “When we first got together, I thought maybe you’d have two or three. But you’ve got nine, they all are amazing.” “It’s too bad Fred couldn’t be here.” “Yeah.” She agrees. “But we’ll see him next week.”

He doesn’t really think about the day. It was just a normal Thursday, it was whatever. He went over the data he needed to, did a few interviews, did some funny stuff for socials. The two things that stick out are her being there and him being able to cling to her and the hangout they had.

He wakes up on Friday to his girlfriend not beside him, but rather standing at the foot of the bed. “What happened?” “A fan took a picture of us yesterday. And Christian posted a few photos on his Instagram story last night and in the very background you can see us.” “Fuck.” He breathes. “Yeah.”

“We’ll just have to be a bit more careful today.” He finally says, sitting up. She gives him a look, “I think it might be best if I stay here for the rest of the weekend, or just stay away from the track.” “What? No!” “Baby, I love that you want to touch me all the time. I would never change that about you.” She tells him, moving onto the bed and holding his hand. “But, we are supposed to be secret. And y’know, we tried me coming to a race and now we know that we can’t do that.” He thinks about her words for all of a second before shaking his head. “No.” “Ollie.” “No.” He tells her. “I know that we were supposed to wait until like August to be public, but it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know that I’m signed with Haas for next year. And I’ve already signed the contract with them. They can’t rip it apart because of this.”

He sighs when she doesn’t say anything, carefully taking her face in between his palms. “Let me worry about what Haas might or might not do. This is on me after all for being clingy.” Her hands come up, fingers wrapping around his wrists. “I love that you're clingy.” Ollie smiles, blood rushing to his face at the quiet words. “It will be okay.” He tells her, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Promise.” “Okay.” She agrees, smiling at him. “Just promise me that you won’t put your hand in my back pocket.” His eyes widened, “You can’t ask me to do that. That’s like asking me not to kiss you.” Her nose wrinkles as he presses a kiss to it. “I can ask that. I don’t think we need pictures of us with your hand on my ass.” He pouts, hands moving from her face to her hips, giving them a squeeze. “But it’s so nice.” He whines before sighing. “Fine. But only if I can put my hand under your shirt.” “Well, I can’t deprive you of everything.” “Exactly.” He grins. She shakes her head, but there’s a smile playing on her lips as she gets off the bed, extending a hand out to him. “C’mon baby, let’s get ready for our first appearance as a couple.”

[twistyfish]

Can we get some comfort from the boys please? God especially after that last post with us being so insecure that hits me like a rock. MC’s selfish for having all of them I wanna be loved too 😭😭😭

(I love MC but jealousy is uncanny)

It doesn’t help that I read an angst no comfort a while ago and I still am not over it- help 😭

sure! i just wrote a double dose of angst so i hope this eases the pain. i don’t know why the hell sylus’s is so long, so don’t ask me.

prompt~ comfort.

content warning for brief mentions of death, periods, and detailed descriptions of blood.

𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴

Zayne

“Please don’t leave me,” you whispered into the cool fabric of his jacket, gripping the velvety material in your fists. You were sitting on his lap facing him, your legs swung around his hips and hugging his sides.

“I would perish at your side before leaving you,” Zayne whispered back. “No entity in or outside this world could rip me apart from you.”

“I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to- why would you say that?”

“Zayne, I’m scared of dying alone, please don’t ever leave me alone.” Your voice was panicky and you weren’t making much sense.

“You’re not going to die alone, honey. I won’t leave you alone,” he reassured you softly. “Where did this fear come from?”

“I just… I’ve been alone for a long time. I don’t want to feel that way again. I don’t want nobody to remember me.”

“Sweetheart. You aren’t alone. You have family and friends who love you so much. And I love you so, so much more than I can describe. I even think about you when you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. How could I not remember you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Zayne wrapped his arms around you, holding your head with one hand and rubbing your hair soothingly.

“You’re the love of my life. You keep me warm on chilly days. You nourish me. Please never think otherwise.”

𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖

Sylus

You were hunched over on the couch, curled up and gripping your knees. You were intensely nauseous, and it felt like a cat was clawing up all your insides. Your periods were notoriously brutal.

You were being extra cautious not to leak on Sylus’s leather couch, placing two towels beneath you and doubling them up. You flipped through channels on the TV miserably, pulling your fluffy blanket higher up around you.

It was all politics and sports. You shut off the TV and closed your eyes, trying to just marinate in the warmth of the blanket.

You were somewhat peaceful, until you realized the seat of your pants felt warmer than usual. Wide eyed, you scrambled up and checked the towels. The top one looked like the Japanese flag. You lifted it, and the bottom one mirrored it. Praying, you lifted the bottom towel.

The leather couch had a thick blotch of red on it, and you groaned aloud. You stood up and tossed the blanket to the side, ignoring the shooting pains in your back and stomach. Upon standing, you felt yourself leak down your leg. There was now a small red puddle on the floor that you were dripping into.

You seethed. Deciding against retrieving paper towels and potentially leaving a trail behind you, you took off your stained pajama pants and wiped the floor with them.

It wasn’t very effective, as you were bent over cleaning the blood and simultaneously dripping onto the floor at the same time. You were too embarrassed to call any of Sylus’s staff, so you ended up giving up and putting your pajama pants in a heap on the floor and sitting on top of them so you wouldn’t do any more damage.

You sat like that for a solid twenty minutes before Sylus came home. You heard his steps as he entered the room and turned your head, both dreading and being relieved at his arrival. His expression changed from suave to confused as he saw you on the floor sitting on your pants.

And then he saw the bloody towels and stain on the couch. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m so sorry,” you started.

“That’s a lot of blood. Are you okay?” His voice was soft and concerned.”

“Yeah, it’s just my period. Aren’t you mad about the couch?”

“Me? Mad about a couch? I can replace this a thousand times over. I’m more concerned-,” he bent down next to you, “-about the amount of blood coming out of you.”

You looked at him, both weary and confused. “I told you, it’s just my period. It’s pretty standard to bleed a lot.”

He shook his head. “Not that much. Get up.” You complied and stood up, revealing your pajamas which were soaked through by now. His scarlet eyes widened. “What the hell? That’s not normal.”

“It is normal. It happens every month.”

He shook his head, picking up your soiled pajamas and towels in one hand and wrapping his other hand around your bloody thighs. He hoisted you up like you were weightless, ignoring your protests.

“Sylus! I’m covered in blood, stop touching me!”

“You act as though I haven’t seen bodies doused in blood.”

“That’s different. This is blood from my literal va-“

“I’m plenty familiar with that orifice of yours, my love.”

“Oh my god.”

𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝

Rafayel

Your cheeks were flushed, and you were hacking up what felt like several lungs. After much harassing from Xavier, you had taken a sick day and were now taking the hottest shower of your life in an attempt to steam out all the muck in your throat.

You blew your nose one last time before exiting the shower, getting dressed with a heavy head. The air in the bathroom was hot and damp from your shower, and you felt like you were swimming as you walked to your bedroom. You ended up clumsily turning the fan on and collapsing on your bed.

And then the doorbell rang. Of course it did, because you and Rafayel had made plans for a movie night that you’d forgotten to cancel. You groaned into the mattress and forced yourself to get up. You answered the door with what must have still been a very pink face, because Rafayel immediately said, “You’re all red. Are you that nervous to see me?”

“I’m sick.”

He immediately pulled away and lifted his shirt over his mouth. “You’re sick? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“I was busy being sick, genius.” You were too tired to banter. You sneezed, to which Rafayel made a face. “You need some TLC, Ms. Bodyguard. I’ll be happy to assist. From a distance, of course.”

You didn’t feel like arguing, so you allowed him to lead you inside and prepare you some stew and hot chocolate. It was surprisingly comforting, and Rafayel didn’t pretend to be disgusted when you coughed up mucus. He rubbed your back while you coughed and attacked you with kisses when you sat quietly with a throbbing head.

Even when you pushed him away, reminding him that he would likely get sick from all his close contact, he waved away your worries.

“I need you to recover as quickly as possible so you can protect me. When I’m sick, you can just pay me back.”

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Xavier

You fell out of a tree. That was the short version of it. You and Xavier were having a climbing contest, and the branch you’d been holding onto wasn’t very stable. Well, the branch itself was stable, but the bark you were gripping wasn’t. It ripped off in your hands and took you with it.

You let out a squeaky noise when you hit the ground, almost like a dog toy. You would have laughed at yourself if you weren’t in so much pain.

“__! Shit, shit, shit!” Xavier was down the tree in an instant, like a rodent that spotted a snake. He sprinted to your side and hovered over you frantically while you laid on your back and tried to regain your breath. He ended up refraining from calling an ambulance because you had enough life in you to beg him not to. So, he drove you to urgent care instead.

Thankfully you weren’t hurt too badly, but you did end up with a bruised tailbone and a fractured rib, so now you were in the middle of the healing process with Xavier asking you questions every twenty minutes or so.

He’d ask, “Are you in pain?” to which you’d respond, “Yes.” And then he’d ask “Where?” And you’d angrily say “My butt.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, it was my fault.”

“But climbing the trees was my idea.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need a butt massage?”

“No, idiot.”

Xavier was very apologetic for the next couple of weeks, sleeping over at your house every other day and bringing you burnt baked goods to tide you over. He took care of you in his own sweet way.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Breaking Point

Summary: Spencer has a partner, his partner is not necessarily a great person. You really just want to connect with him, he is your roommate, Penelope's, friend after all. But Spencer just does not seem to like you, can you change that?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer has a partner, implied bisexual Spencer, non-graphic cheating, emotionally distant partner, controlling partner, Spencer is sassy and kind of mean, mention of Spencer's drug problem, insecurities

Word count: 14.6k

a/n: i know i can treat you better than they cannnnn -- happy one day early post !!!!

main masterlist part two

The evening was typical for you—a night out with the team at one of their usual spots, a lively bar that served as the backdrop for many of their post-case celebrations. You were perched on a high stool at the bar, sipping on a cocktail Penelope, your roommate, had insisted you try, something bright and fruity with just the right amount of sweetness. The music was loud enough to make conversation a bit challenging, but not so much that it drowned everyone out.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes casually scanning the room. Derek was engaged in a playful argument with JJ about some obscure movie reference, and Rossi was deep in conversation with Hotch. Everyone seemed relaxed, their faces lit with the glow of well-deserved downtime.

But then, something caught your eye—a flash of movement at the other end of the bar. Spencer, the quiet and reserved member of the team who had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, was engaged in what looked like a rather intense conversation with someone you didn’t recognize. The contrast between Spencer’s usual timid demeanor and the animated gestures he was making now piqued your curiosity.

You leaned closer to Penelope, who was sitting beside you, tapping away on her phone as usual, her fingers a blur of activity. "Who’s that?" you asked, nodding toward Spencer and the unknown person.

Penelope glanced up from her screen, following your gaze, and immediately sighed, rolling her eyes in a way that suggested this was a scene she had witnessed more times than she cared to count. "That’s Eli," she said, the name laced with a tone that was hard to miss. "Spencer’s partner."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Spencer has a partner?" The revelation blew your mind. You'd known the team for over a year, seen and been seen in all sorts of situations—some more embarrassing than others—and not once had Spencer ever mentioned having a partner. It was like discovering a hidden chapter in a book you thought you knew well.

Penelope gave you a knowing look, her lips pressing together as if she were debating whether or not to continue. You nudged her lightly, urging her on. "What is it? You can’t just leave me hanging."

She sighed again, this time more softly, and leaned in closer so that only you could hear. "It just doesn’t seem like they’re very happy together, you know? They always seem to be arguing about something or other. I don't think I’ve ever seen them have a normal conversation."

You turned your attention back to Spencer and Eli, who were still deep in conversation—if you could even call it that. From where you were sitting, it looked more like Eli was doing most of the talking, their tone sharp, while Spencer listened, his face a mask of confusion and quiet frustration.

"Why does he stay with them if they’re so unhappy?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it. 

Penelope shrugged, taking a sip of her drink before responding. "Spencer's complicated, you know? I think part of him feels…responsible or something. Like he has to make it work, even if it’s not working."

You nodded, still watching the exchange between Spencer and Eli, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Part of you was shocked that Spencer, someone who always seemed so put-together, was caught up in a relationship that didn’t seem to bring him any joy. And another part of you, the part that had always felt a bit of an inexplicable attachment to him, felt a pang of something else—something almost like protectiveness.

"I never would’ve guessed," you murmured, more to yourself than to Penelope. 

"Yeah, well," Penelope replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "There’s a lot about Spencer that’s easy to miss if you’re not looking closely."

As the night wore on, you couldn't help but keep glancing in Spencer's direction, wondering what else you might have missed about him over the past year. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how little you actually knew about the man who had somehow managed to become both a puzzle and an enigma in your life.

—

You’re not sure what brought on this new damn near obsession with Spencer Reid, but ever since you found out about him having a partner, you’ve been thinking about him differently. It was as if knowing he was capable of being in a relationship made you want to be the one who showed him what a healthy one looks like. The thought had wormed its way into your mind and now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him in your daily life. 

Whether you were at work, at home, or out with friends, your thoughts always seemed to drift back to Spencer—his quiet demeanor, the way he fiddled with his hands when he was nervous, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to be the one who made him smile, the one who could take away the stress you’d seen him carry.

Weeks passed, and you tried to push these thoughts to the back of your mind, but they always crept back in. So when Penelope proposed a night at Rossi’s, you jumped at the opportunity, hoping that maybe being around him might help you understand why you were feeling this way.

When you arrived at Rossi’s, the place was buzzing with laughter and conversation. Penelope was already engaged in a lively discussion with Derek and JJ, and Rossi was busy pouring drinks for everyone. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on Spencer, standing off to the side, a drink in hand. He was alone—no Eli in sight.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, you were making your way over to him, driven by an urge to finally talk to him alone. Maybe this was your chance to get to know him better, to bridge the gap that had always seemed to exist between you two.

“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted, nudging your elbow gently against his as you walked up next to him.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of confusion as he looked at you. It was as if he wasn’t quite sure why you had come over.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart was beating a little faster than you’d like to admit.

“Fine, thanks,” he nodded, his gaze drifting away from you almost immediately. “And you?”

“I’m great, thank you!” you answered with a smile, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to hang in the air between you.

But Spencer didn’t reply. Instead, he stood there, clearly feeling awkward, his eyes focused on some distant point in the room. You bit your lip, trying to think of something else to say, something that might spark a real conversation.

“So…I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” you ventured, letting out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

At that, Spencer stiffened. He finally turned to look at you, his expression hardening in a way that caught you off guard. “Well, you don’t really know me, do you?” he said, his tone colder than you’d ever heard it before.

“What?” you asked, taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor. The sharpness in his voice sent a jolt through you, making you feel like you’d stepped onto thin ice without realizing it.

But he didn’t stop there. “You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” he continued, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness as he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why would you be privy to intimate details of my life?”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, and you stood there, stunned and at a loss for words. “Oh—I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your confidence crumbling as you tried to process what had just happened. You had expected many things from this conversation, but this level of hostility wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, okay,” Spencer muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, violently confused.

You watched him retreat, your mind racing to understand what had just happened. The warmth and excitement you had felt moments ago were now replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in your chest. What had you done wrong? Why had he reacted that way?

As you stood there, the lively chatter and laughter of the party continued around you, but it all felt distant, muffled. All you could think about was Spencer’s harsh words, and the way he had looked at you—like you were a stranger, like you had crossed a line you didn’t even know existed.

“Hey mama, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You good?” Derek’s deep, familiar voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, grounding you back in the present. 

You blinked a few times, forcing a smile onto your face as you turned to face Derek. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, doing your best to sound convincing. “It’s good to see you!”

Derek didn’t seem entirely convinced, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied you, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled back, his usual warmth returning as he pulled you into a quick hug. “Good to see you too, girl. Let’s get you back in the spirit of the night, huh?”

You nodded, grateful for his easy going nature as you allowed yourself to be swept back into the flow of the evening. Derek had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, and as the two of you rejoined the group, you found yourself easing back into the laughter and conversation around you. It wasn’t hard to get caught up in the fun, especially with Penelope’s infectious energy and Rossi’s endless supply of stories.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on the good vibes of the night, there was a nagging thought at the back of your mind—a quiet, persistent echo of your brief and bewildering interaction with Spencer. You couldn’t shake the image of his face, the sudden hardness in his eyes, and the way his tone had shifted so drastically from the Spencer you thought you knew.

You stole a glance across the room, where Spencer was now engaged in a conversation with JJ, his expression relaxed, his laughter genuine. It was as if nothing had happened at all, as if your exchange just moments earlier hadn’t rattled you to your core.

The contrast was jarring, and it left you feeling even more confused. How could he seem so unaffected, so nonchalant, after what had just transpired? It was like the sweet, shy man you’d come to know had been ripped away in an instant, replaced by someone who was colder, more distant, and completely unreadable.

You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong, why such an innocent question had triggered such a reaction from him. It was just one question—one that, in hindsight, seemed harmless. And yet, his response had been anything but.

“Hey, earth to Y/N,” Derek’s voice snapped you back again, this time with a playful nudge. “Where’d you go just now? I was asking if you wanted another drink.”

You blinked, realizing you had zoned out again. “Oh, sorry! Yeah, I could use another one,” you said, offering him another smile. This time, you meant it. Maybe another drink would help you forget the odd tension for a little while, help you push Spencer out of your mind.

—

That night, as the evening began to wind down, you noticed Spencer slipping out quietly after saying his goodbyes to everyone but you. A pang of something—hurt, maybe?—struck you as you watched him head toward the front door, his figure receding into the night. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just the lingering awkwardness from earlier, nothing more.

But then you noticed something out of place—Spencer had left his satchel behind, the one he always carried with him, filled with books, notes, and who knows what else. Without thinking, you grabbed it and rushed out the door after him, your heart pounding with adrenaline and the hope of another chance to talk.

“Spencer! Wait!” you called out, your voice echoing in the cool night air as you ran down the driveway, the gravel crunching under your feet.

Spencer, already halfway into the passenger seat of the car, paused at the sound of your voice. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression immediately shifting to one of mild annoyance when he realized it was you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he was hoping it would be anyone else but you.

“You left your bag,” you panted, holding it up as you caught up to him.

“Oh,” he replied, his tone flat, his eyes glancing at the bag as if it was the last thing on his mind. “Thanks,” Spencer added, his voice barely above a mumble as he took the satchel from your hands. 

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the awkward tension hanging between you. But just as you were about to wish him a good night, your eyes shifted to the driver’s seat where Eli was sitting, glaring at you with a cold, suspicious gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of their stare made you falter, your words catching in your throat.

“Have a good ni—” you started, but before you could finish, Eli’s hand jerked the car into gear, and the tires screeched against the pavement as they peeled out of the driveway. The door barely had time to close behind Spencer before they were speeding off into the night.

You stood there, breathless and confused, watching the taillights disappear down the road. The cold night air seemed to wrap around you, a stark contrast to the warmth that had filled Rossi’s home just minutes ago.

You couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that had settled deep in your chest. The way Spencer had looked at you, the way Eli had glared, the way the car had sped off as if they couldn’t wait to leave you behind—it all left you feeling more out of sorts than ever.

—

The next time you saw Spencer, it was completely by accident. You were excitedly attending the grand opening of a vintage bookstore that had been on your calendar for months. The store was rumored to have an original copy of Pride and Prejudice, and you were determined to get your hands on it. As you approached the entrance, ready to join the line that had already started forming, a tall, familiar figure caught your eye.

Spencer was standing off to the side, hunched in on himself as he spoke into his phone. His posture was tense, and his voice, though hushed, carried a tone of desperation and frustration that made you slow your steps.

“—you said you would be here! You know how important this is to me…” His voice wavered, and he paused, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Your heart ached as you watched him, his expression filled with hurt and disappointment. His next words were spoken with an urgency that tugged at something deep inside you.

“I went to your comicon, waited all night in line to get a video game for you, and I did that…thing! This morning, remember?”

You couldn’t hear what Eli was saying, but from the look on Spencer’s face, it was clear that whatever it was, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. You could hear the strain in his voice, the way it shook as he tried to hold back his emotions.

“Eli,” Spencer sighed, the sound so full of defeat that it nearly broke your heart. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I never ask you to do anything…it does matter! It’s not stupid…okay. Yeah. Bye. Love you too.”

As he ended the call, you watched as he put his phone in his pocket, his shoulders slumping as he sniffled, clearly trying to compose himself. The vulnerability in his posture made you want to reach out, to comfort him, to tell him that he deserved so much better than this.

But before he could see you, you quickly made your way past him and into the line, your heart racing. You didn’t want to embarrass him by acknowledging what you had overheard. It felt too private, too raw, and you knew that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want someone to witness such a moment of weakness.

Little did you know that Spencer had seen you walk by, his heart sinking further as he realized you might have heard his conversation. The idea of you knowing how he couldn’t even get his partner to come to a bookstore—a place that meant so much to him—was mortifying. It was bad enough that Eli had chosen to watch football with their friends instead of joining him, but the thought of you knowing about it only added to his embarrassment.

Spencer fell into line a few people behind you, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of rejection. He wished that the rift between you two didn’t exist, especially on a day like today. The thought of walking through the store with someone, discussing books, sharing little discoveries, was something that would have brought him immense joy. But now, with the awkwardness hanging between you like a thick fog, he knew it wasn’t possible.

As the line moved forward, you tried to focus on the excitement of the bookstore’s opening, but you couldn’t help but steal glances back at Spencer. He looked so alone, so isolated, and it made your chest tighten with an emotion you didn’t quite want to name. The bookstore should have been a place of happiness for him, but all you could see was the shadow of his disappointment.

You had managed to find the original Pride and Prejudice that you wanted, and your heart felt so full it was almost overwhelming. This book meant the world to you, bringing back memories of your grandmother reading it to you when you were sick as a child. The familiar scent of old pages and the sight of the worn, delicate cover brought a lump to your throat, but it was the good kind, the kind of feeling that reminded you of warmth and love.

As you clutched the book to your chest, savoring the moment, a voice came from behind you, pulling you out of your reverie. “Great choice, I can’t believe they have an original.”

You turned, surprised, to see a very attractive stranger standing there. They had strikingly beautiful eyes that seemed to draw you in, making you momentarily forget where you were. “Yeah, it’s my favorite,” you replied with a bright smile. “I’m so glad I was able to get it.”

“Shane,” they offered, extending their hand with an easy, confident smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You took their hand, feeling a pleasant warmth from the gesture. “Y/N,” you said, your smile widening. “Nice to meet you too.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. You and Shane chatted about literature, the excitement of the new bookstore, and your mutual love for classic novels. Their enthusiasm for books mirrored your own, and you found yourself enjoying the banter, feeling a sense of connection with this person you’d just met.

What you didn’t realize was that Spencer was watching from afar, his heart twisting in knots as he observed how easily you interacted with new people. It was something he envied—how naturally you navigated social situations, how the friendly vibes seemed to radiate off you in waves. Anyone could see how nice you were, how approachable, and it only made him more aware of the tension that had built up between the two of you.

He wished things could have gotten off to a better start between you. But every time he thought about trying to fix things, that cold interaction from the other night lingered in his mind, making him think it was too late. And now, seeing you so effortlessly connect with someone else, someone who had already made you smile, only deepened the pang of jealousy in his chest.

As you made your way to the register, Shane walked with you, continuing the conversation. Just before you reached the counter, Shane asked, “Hey, would it be okay if I got your number? I’d love to keep talking about books and maybe grab a coffee sometime.”

You smiled, feeling flattered by the request. “Sure, I’d like that.” You exchanged numbers, feeling a small flutter of excitement as you parted ways with Shane.

Meanwhile, Spencer watched from a distance, the jealousy tightening its grip. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the effortless way in which you interacted with others, or if it was the fact that someone else had gotten your number so easily—something he knew he could never have done. Either way, the feeling gnawed at him, making him feel even more isolated than before.

When it was your turn to pay, you glanced back and noticed Spencer standing behind you in line. His eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable, but you remembered how upset he had been earlier. Knowing he was having a bad day and sensing the awkward vibes that had developed between the two of you, you decided to do something small to brighten his day.

Leaning in to the cashier, you whispered, “Could you estimate how much his books would cost?”

The cashier smiled and nodded, quickly scanning the stack of books in Spencer’s hands with their eyes. They told you the amount, and you quietly pulled out your bills, paying for Spencer’s purchases along with your own. Without saying a word to him, you took your bag and left the store, hoping that this small act of kindness might bring a bit of light into his day.

As Spencer approached the counter, still lost in his thoughts, the cashier smiled warmly at him. “You’re all set, sir. The woman in front of you already paid for your books.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned. “She… she did what?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

The cashier nodded, still smiling. “She paid for everything. Said she hoped you’d have a good day.”

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, holding the bag of books as if it were the most precious thing in the world. His mind raced, trying to make sense of why you would do something so kind for him when he had been nothing but cold to you since you met. The memory of your most recent awkward exchange at Rossi’s house replayed in his head, and guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.

Why would you do such a kind thing? He didn’t deserve it, not after the way he had treated you. And yet, you had done it anyway, without a word, without expecting anything in return.

As Spencer left the store, the bag of books clutched in his hand, he was overwhelmed by a mix of gratitude, guilt, and a growing sense of something missing. He’d had doubts about his relationship with Eli before, but he had always convinced himself that this was just how relationships were—messy and full of compromises.

But after seeing your kindness and how effortlessly you connected with others, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on something better. For the first time, he questioned whether he deserved more than what he had settled for with Eli. Your simple act of paying for his books had cracked open a door in his mind, making him realize that maybe there was a different, happier path he could take—one that might even include someone like you.

—

When Spencer walked into the bullpen that Monday, he immediately noticed Penelope animatedly talking with Derek and Emily. The moment she heard someone enter, her eyes lit up as she saw him.

“Reid!” she exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he walked over to her instead of heading straight to his desk. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone light and amused.

“Look!” Penelope gushed, thrusting a book into his hands with excitement.

Spencer glanced down, recognizing the book instantly—it was a first edition of a title he knew Penelope loved. His eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow! Where did you find this?” he asked, marveling at the rare find.

Penelope sighed happily, clutching her hands to her heart. “Y/N got it for me! I couldn’t make it to the new bookstore, and she knew how sad I was, so she bought this to cheer me up!”

Spencer processed this new piece of information, feeling a warmth spread through him. Of course you did, he thought to himself, you’re the nicest person ever. “That’s… that’s really great, Garcia,” he said with a sincere smile.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Penelope beamed, taking the book back and staring at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Derek chuckled, adding, “Yeah, mama. That girl is a gem. I’m glad someone is treating you good when I’m not around.”

Spencer nodded, his mind lingering on you. It was just another reminder of the kind of person you were, and it made him think even more about what he might be missing out on.

"Something brewing in that big brain?" Emily teased, noticing Spencer had gone quiet, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"Hmm?" Spencer responded, looking up at her, momentarily pulled from his reverie.

"Are you okay, Reid?" she tried again, her voice tinged with concern.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... haven't had my coffee yet," he replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

Derek chuckled, sensing Spencer's discomfort. "Rossi just made a new pot. I'll go grab a cup with you, pretty boy."

Spencer nodded gratefully as the two men headed to the breakroom, which was mostly empty, save for a few agents from other departments who were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any mind.

"Do anything fun this weekend?" Derek asked casually as he started making his coffee, glancing over at Spencer with a curious look.

Spencer allowed himself a small smile as he replied, "Yeah, I went to that new bookstore. They had their grand opening."

Derek thought for a moment, then asked, "Did you see Y/N there?"

Spencer's hand froze mid-stir, his expression faltering. "Oh, uh, no," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by the question.

Derek narrowed his eyes, not missing the way Spencer suddenly seemed on edge. "Alright, spit it out, kid," he pressed, sensing there was more to the story.

"Spit what out?" Spencer sassed, attempting to deflect, but his tone lacked conviction.

Derek just sighed, giving him a look that said, Don't bullshit me. "I've noticed you don't necessarily... enjoy Y/N's company. Did you run into her? Was it weird?"

Spencer let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it from Derek. "Yeah, I saw her," he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But it wasn't weird. I mean, not exactly. It’s just... complicated."

Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting for Spencer to continue. "Complicated how?"

Spencer hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I think she might have overheard me on the phone with Eli... They were supposed to come with me to the bookstore, but they didn’t. I was upset," Spencer shrugged, trying to downplay the hurt in his voice.

Derek softened his gaze, sensing the vulnerability in Spencer’s words. "I’m sorry, man. Did they give a good reason?"

Spencer shrugged again, his eyes welling up as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Um, they said they needed to watch the football game. Something to do with the fantasy league they’re in."

Derek rolled his eyes, his frustration evident. "That is not a good reason. Eli should have known this was important to you."

Spencer cleared his throat, staring intently at his coffee, willing the tears not to fall. "They knew... I don’t know if they cared."

"Reid..." Derek began, his voice gentle, but Spencer quickly waved his hand, cutting him off.

"No, no. It’s fine—we talked about it," Spencer said, his voice wavering but firm, clearly wanting to move past the topic.

Seeing that Spencer didn’t want to delve deeper into the matter, Derek decided to let it go for now, though he still hadn’t gotten the answer to his earlier question. "What does that have to do with Y/N?"

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of his embarrassment pressing down on him. "She was walking past during the end of the call. I think she might have heard me, but she was too polite to say anything. I don’t know… I’m just embarrassed. My own partner wouldn’t show up to something that important to me, and she probably heard how pathetic that sounded."

Derek frowned, his heart going out to his friend. "You’re not pathetic, Reid. You’ve just been dealt a rough hand. And Y/N… well, she’s not the kind of person to judge you for that. If anything, she probably feels bad that you were hurt."

Spencer nodded, though the shame still lingered. "Yeah, maybe. It’s just hard, you know? I don’t want her—or anyone—to see me like that."

Derek gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "I get it, man. But Y/N… she’s good people. Maybe talking to her might help, even if it’s just to clear the air."

Spencer considered Derek’s words, the idea of reaching out to you both comforting and terrifying. But deep down, he knew Derek was right. It wasn’t too late to make things right, and maybe—just maybe—you’d be the understanding ear he desperately needed.

After parting ways with Derek, Spencer realized he’d forgotten to mention how you had quietly paid for his books at the bookstore. Wrapped up in the emotions of their conversation, it had slipped his mind. But as he returned to his desk, the memory resurfaced, and he found himself holding onto it like a cherished secret.

Spencer wanted to keep that moment to himself, a private reminder of your kindness. It had meant more to him than words could express, especially in a time when he often felt overlooked. Your simple act of generosity was a bright spot, making him feel seen and cared for in a way he rarely experienced.

—

Thursday evening marked your first date with Shane, and it was everything you had hoped for. They had called earlier in the week to make plans, and you were excited to have someone showing genuine interest and making an effort. Penelope had eagerly offered to help you get ready, her expertise in all things beauty proving invaluable.

"Pen, you’re seriously the best," you gushed as she applied the finishing touches to your look. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Penelope giggled, her eyes twinkling. "Probably show up looking a lot less flamboyant!"

"And we would not want that," you teased with a smile, savoring every moment of girl time with your roommate and best friend.

When Shane arrived to pick you up, they were the epitome of courteousness—opening doors, pulling out your chair, and keeping the conversation lively throughout the evening. It was an amazing first date, made even better by Shane’s undeniable attractiveness. You enjoyed yourself thoroughly, feeling a spark of excitement about where this could lead.

Meanwhile, across the restaurant, Spencer sat at a table with Eli, his view of you unobstructed. What should have been a special anniversary dinner had been overshadowed by the effort it took to even get Eli to agree to go out. Spencer had to beg them to celebrate, with Eli initially resisting, claiming they didn’t want to spend the money. Spencer had insisted it was worth it, that their relationship was worth celebrating. Eli eventually caved, but only because they didn’t want Spencer to start crying—again.

As Spencer watched you laugh and smile with Shane, he felt a sharp pang in his chest, the desire to drown his sorrows in a bottle of wine nearly overwhelming. The contrast between your joyous date and his own crumbling relationship was stark. Eli sat across from him, more interested in checking their fantasy football league stats than in engaging with him.

Of course, you would go on a date with the attractive person from the bookstore. In Spencer’s eyes, they were everything he wasn’t. It made sense that you’d find happiness with someone like that, while he watched his own chances at joy slip further away. It was just another reminder that good things, happiness, were always just out of reach for him. As he sat there, barely holding back his tears, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own choices, the realization that he had pushed away someone who might have brought him the kind of happiness he saw reflected in your smile from across the room.

After Shane paid the bill for your dinner, causing you to swoon at the kind gesture, the two of you walked toward the exit, Shane’s hand resting intimately on your lower back. As you passed by Spencer's table, you couldn’t resist saying hello, the expensive wine Shane had ordered loosening your tongue.

“Spencer! Hi!” you greeted excitedly, your smile wide.

Spencer looked up at you, clearly caught off guard, his expression quickly shifting to a polite smile. “Hello,” he replied, trying to mask his surprise.

“What are you doing here? Is this Eli?” You turned to the person sitting across from him, offering a warm smile.

Eli, however, gave you a cold, sinister look. “Wow, beauty and brains, what a catch,” they remarked snidely, directing their comment at Shane.

The sarcasm completely flew over your head, and you responded cheerfully, “I think you’re pretty too! It’s so nice to meet you, and Spencer, so good to see you! Bye!” You gave a little wave, before taking Shane’s hand and dragging them toward the car, their laughter following behind you. Shane, having had much less to drink, simply smiled, amused by your tipsy enthusiasm.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Spencer grew even more quiet, while Eli’s anger simmered, their face contorting with irritation.

“What the fuck was that?” Eli asked, their voice low and venomous.

Spencer’s head snapped up, startled by the harshness in Eli’s tone. “What? Y/N? She’s drunk,” he replied, trying to defuse the situation, though he felt increasingly uncomfortable under Eli’s glare.

“No shit, Spencer,” Eli scoffed, rolling their eyes with frustration. “But why did they say hi to you?”

Spencer fumbled for an explanation, feeling cornered. “Umm… I guess we’re kind of friends by association?” he offered, his words uncertain, as even he wasn’t sure how to define your relationship.

Eli’s eyes narrowed, their anger intensifying. “I told you not to talk to her. I asked you to do one fucking thing in this relationship—how hard is it to not talk to some dumb bimbo?” they snarled.

Spencer shrank in his seat, feeling like a scolded child. His embarrassment was palpable as he tried to explain, “I can’t help that she’s Penelope’s roommate. I like to be civil.”

“Civil, sure,” Eli spat, their tone dripping with contempt. “But I’m serious, Spencer. Don’t. Fucking. Talk to her.”

Spencer sat there, shrinking further under Eli’s gaze, a sense of helplessness washing over him. The contrast between your cheerful, lighthearted demeanor and Eli’s seething anger left him feeling more isolated than ever. The joy you had shown in such a simple greeting only highlighted the growing chasm between him and his partner, making him question, yet again, why he was holding onto something that felt so toxic and damaging.

—

It was a few weeks before your paths crossed with Spencer again, and during that time, he couldn't help but wonder if Eli had somehow managed to keep you away from him. But today, here you were, standing in the bullpen with Penelope’s phone in hand, panting slightly from your rush to deliver it.

“Y/N! You’re a lifesaver!” Penelope cried out, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laughed, catching your breath. “I don’t even know how you made it out of the house without this thing, I thought it was attached to you!”

Derek and Emily joined in the laughter, clearly enjoying the interaction. “Baby girl was excited to come in today—they gave her a new monitor,” Derek teased, grinning.

“Ohh, show me!” you clapped your hands in excitement, your enthusiasm infectious.

As you followed Penelope to her office, you passed by Spencer’s desk, giving him a soft, “Hi, Spencer,” your voice low and warm.

But Spencer didn’t look up. He simply stared down at the file in front of him, his mind far from his work. Eli’s threat echoed in his head, reminding him that he couldn’t talk to you. The lack of response went unnoticed by everyone except for you and Emily.

After you disappeared into Penelope’s office, Emily walked over to Spencer’s desk, her expression concerned. “Reid…? Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously, her voice gentle.

Spencer looked up, shaking his head as if to brush off her concern. “No,” he replied curtly, but his tone was anything but reassuring.

Emily wasn’t convinced. “Okay, well, it’s just… you ignored Y/N pretty harshly. I think she was just trying to be nice.”

Spencer knew it was an overreaction, but the turmoil in his mind was overwhelming, clouding his judgment. He felt cornered, and before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Oh yeah, Emily? Is that what you think? I’m sure you’re right, seeing as you know everything.”

With that, he abruptly stood up, storming out of the bullpen, leaving Emily and Derek in stunned silence. 

Rossi, who had been quietly working at his desk nearby, looked up, his brow furrowed with concern as he fixed Emily and Derek with a questioning gaze. “Is he using again?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered under his breath, quickly getting up to chase after Spencer, his heart pounding with fear and urgency. 

Emily exchanged a worried glance with Rossi, both of them hoping that whatever was going on with Spencer could be addressed before it spiraled out of control.

"Reid, wait up!" Derek called out as he watched Spencer stride quickly down the hall, his pace fueled by frustration and confusion. Spencer, too caught up in his thoughts, didn’t stop or even acknowledge Derek's voice. But Derek was determined, and he quickened his pace, finally catching up to Spencer and grabbing his arm, halting him in his tracks.

"Kid, I need you to tell me right here and now if you’re using again," Derek panted, his concern clear in his voice.

Spencer's face immediately morphed into one of shock and offense. "What? No! I’m clean," he replied, his tone defensive but honest.

Derek sighed deeply, relief flooding him. "Okay, thank God."

Spencer frowned, still reeling from the accusation. "Why would you think that?"

Derek looked at him intently. "Did you hear yourself just now? You were out of line with Prentiss. She was only trying to help."

Spencer let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and sharp. "Isn’t that what everyone wants to do? Help poor, defenseless Spencer," he said sarcastically. "Why can’t I ever just take care of myself?"

Derek gave him a sympathetic look, his concern deepening. "That’s not what I meant. I’m just worried about you. Is it more stuff with Eli?"

The mention of Eli’s name set Spencer off again, the anger bubbling back to the surface. "Christ, is there no privacy anymore?" he snapped, his voice tight with frustration.

Derek held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I’m not trying to invade your privacy, man. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been off lately, and I’m concerned. We all are."

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "It’s… nothing, Derek."

Derek nodded, his tone softening. "It doesn’t seem like nothing, kid."

Spencer looked down, his voice small and almost defeated. "Can you just… stop being a big brother for a second?"

Derek’s expression softened even more as he asked gently, "Who do you want me to be?"

Spencer let out a weary sigh. "I don’t know… a wizard? Then maybe you could help me go back in time."

Derek started to ask, "Why do you need–" but before he could finish, his phone rang, the familiar tone signaling a new case. He glanced at the screen, then back at Spencer with a resigned look. "Time to go."

Spencer nodded, the moment slipping away as the reality of their work took precedence. But as they walked back toward the bullpen, Derek couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface—something that Spencer wasn’t ready to share yet.

—

When the team arrived back from the case, Spencer dreaded going home. He hadn't talked to Eli since the day they left, sending only a brief text to let them know he was heading out on a case and another just now to inform them he was back. But as usual, there were no messages waiting for him in return. Eli had done this before—the silent treatment. It was their way of letting Spencer know he had messed up, though the reason was often unclear until Eli decided to spell it out.

As Spencer approached his front door, the familiar feeling of anxiety settled in his chest. He knew what awaited him: the cold, silent disapproval from Eli, followed by the inevitable confrontation. It was why he was dreading going home, but there was no avoiding it.

When Spencer unlocked the front door, he was greeted by the sound of football blaring from the TV, and not much else. The usual signs of Eli’s presence—a drink on the coffee table, their shoes kicked off haphazardly—were all there, but the silence from Eli themselves was telling. 

He announced his presence quietly, hoping to gauge the mood before he ventured further into the house. Without much of a response, Spencer headed to the laundry room, deciding to busy himself with washing his clothes. It was a mundane task, but it gave him something to focus on, a way to delay the inevitable confrontation.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting was for Eli to suddenly come up behind him, wrapping their arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. The affectionate gesture caught him off guard.

“Hey, baby,” Eli whispered, their voice soft and intimate.

“He–hey, Eli,” Spencer stammered, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t tell if this was going to lead to something good or if it was just a precursor to another argument.

“I missed you while you were gone,” Eli mumbled, their lips trailing across Spencer’s neck, planting gentle kisses along his skin.

“Yeah?” Spencer sighed, tilting his head slightly to give Eli more access, his body instinctively responding to the affection despite the uncertainty gnawing at him.

“Mhm, it’s so lonely here without you,” Eli murmured, continuing their gentle assault of kisses.

That evening, Spencer found himself in the company of a sweet, loving, and cherishing Eli. It was a side of his partner he didn’t see often, and he was left wondering what he had done to deserve this sudden tenderness. But instead of questioning it, he allowed himself to be swept up in the rare affection, choosing to savor the moment rather than dwell on the why.

For that night, at least, Spencer let himself believe that everything was okay, that maybe this time things would be different. Even if it was just for a little while, he wasn’t going to complain.

—

You got a mysterious text from Shane, asking if they could come over to talk. You agreed, of course, but a nervous feeling settled in your stomach. Things had been going really well between the two of you—multiple dates, kisses, and they had even met Penelope. But as you opened the door to let them in, you immediately sensed that this wasn’t going to be good news.

"Hey, Y/N," Shane greeted with a sigh, giving you a sad smile. "Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider and motioned for them to enter, trying to brace yourself for whatever was coming. The two of you sat in the chairs by the window, the tension palpable as you waited for Shane to speak.

"What’s up, Shane?" you asked cautiously, your heart already preparing for the worst.

Shane sighed again, scratching the back of their head, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I really respect you, so I felt it was only fair to tell you face to face... that I met someone. Someone I want to pursue things with exclusively."

Your heart sank. Of course, the one genuine person you meet found someone better than you. "Oh," was all you could manage to say, the word barely escaping your lips as you processed the rejection.

"I’m sorry, Y/N," Shane continued, their expression full of pity. "You’re a lovely person, and I really enjoyed our time together. But I just—"

"You don’t have to explain," you interrupted, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile despite the ache building in your chest. "I get it."

Shane frowned, clearly feeling bad, but they didn’t push further. They stood, clearly sensing that it was time to leave. "I really do wish you the best, Y/N. You deserve someone amazing."

You nodded, but the words felt hollow in the space between you. After you closed the door behind them, you sank into your chair, the weight of disappointment settling heavily on your shoulders. You hadn’t expected this, and now you were left alone, wondering why this always seemed to happen—just when things seemed to be going well, they unraveled.

As you sat there, staring blankly out the window, the weight of the rejection settled deep into your chest. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, that these things happen, but the familiar voice of self-doubt crept in, louder and sharper than ever. Of course they found someone better. Why wouldn’t they?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was always you—never enough, never quite the right fit. You replayed the last few weeks in your mind, analyzing every detail, every moment, searching for where you might have fallen short. Maybe you weren’t interesting enough, not exciting enough, not worth sticking around for. 

What if I’m just not the kind of person people choose? The thought gnawed at you, sinking deeper into your mind. Every small flaw, every insecurity felt magnified, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just how things would always be. Always second place. Always left behind.

—

Meanwhile, everything between Spencer and Eli seemed to improve dramatically. Eli was suddenly attentive in ways Spencer hadn’t experienced in a long time. They bought Spencer flowers, cooked him dinner, and even made an effort to engage in the things Spencer loved—whether it was sitting with him through documentaries or accompanying him on long walks through the city.

Spencer wasn’t sure what had sparked this radical change in Eli, but he didn’t dare question it. Part of him was afraid that if he asked, the magic would break, and everything would go back to the way it was before—the cold indifference, the emotional distance. For now, he clung to the fleeting happiness, allowing himself to believe that maybe this was the turning point he had been waiting for. 

But in the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispered that good things never lasted for him, and any moment, it could all disappear. He knew better than to get comfortable, but for now, he basked in the attention, unwilling to let go of this brief glimpse of a perfect relationship.

Eli had never been one for grand gestures, but lately, everything felt different. Spencer came home one evening to find a bouquet of brightly colored flowers on the kitchen table, their fragrance filling the room. 

"Hey, you’re home!" Eli called from the kitchen, a warm smile on their face as they stirred something on the stove. "I made your favorite—pasta with garlic bread. Thought you might like something comforting after your day."

Spencer blinked, his mind racing as he tried to process the shift. He set his bag down, cautiously approaching the flowers. "You… got these for me?" he asked, his voice soft, unsure.

Eli chuckled and walked over to him, wiping their hands on a dish towel before wrapping their arms around his waist. "Of course, I did. You deserve it, Spencie."

Spencer smiled, though his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. This wasn’t like Eli at all. "I… thank you. They’re beautiful." He leaned down to smell the flowers, a wave of warmth flooding him, but a lingering doubt hovered at the back of his mind.

Later that week, they were sitting together on the couch, something they rarely did. Eli had insisted on watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries, something about ancient civilizations that Spencer would usually watch alone.

"I never knew this stuff was so interesting," Eli commented, their head resting on Spencer’s shoulder. "Why didn’t you make me watch this with you sooner?"

Spencer looked down at them, unsure of how to respond. "I didn’t think it was really your thing," he admitted, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of Eli’s shirt. "You’ve never really… wanted to before."

Eli sat up slightly, turning to face Spencer, their hand coming to rest on his knee. "Well, I want to now," they said, smiling softly.

Spencer’s heart swelled at the words, but the confusion deepened. This was everything he had wanted from Eli for so long, but the sudden shift left him off-balance. Still, he wasn’t ready to question it—not when things were finally good. He forced himself to smile back, leaning in to kiss Eli’s forehead. 

"I appreciate that," he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I just…I’m happy."

Eli kissed him softly on the lips, pulling him closer. "I love you, Spencie," they murmured, their words sweet and tender. "And I want to make sure you know that."

Spencer wrapped his arms around them, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. He wanted to ask what had caused this change, what had made Eli suddenly decide to be the partner he had always hoped for. But the fear of losing this fleeting happiness kept him silent. He wasn’t ready to risk it all, not yet.

—

Penelope had been watching you closely for days, her eyes filled with concern. She knew something was wrong, but you had been keeping your walls up, retreating further into your sadness after things fell apart with Shane. Every attempt she made to drag you out of the apartment had been met with a firm, “I’m just not feeling up to it, Pen.”

But Penelope wasn’t one to give up so easily. "Come on, honey, you can’t just sit here and stew over that idiot forever," she urged, practically bouncing on her feet. "We need to go out, have some fun, and remind the world who the hell we are!"

"I don’t know…" you trailed off, glancing at the TV as though it had something to offer. But you knew it didn’t. You just didn’t have the energy.

"Y/N," Penelope said firmly, placing her hands on her hips, "I love you, but sitting in pajamas while watching reality shows for the third night in a row is not how we get over this. You are coming with me."

You sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to relent. "Fine," you groaned, finally giving in.

Penelope’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes! Shower, now. I’m doing your makeup, and we are going to paint the town red!"

It wasn’t long before she had you dolled up, feeling like a different version of yourself. The two of you hit the town with one goal: to get drunk and forget all about stupid people like Shane. JJ, Emily, and Derek met up with you at the bar, and soon you were all dancing up a storm. The music, the energy, and the friends surrounding you were doing exactly what Penelope had intended—they were lifting you out of your funk.

You loved the attention you were getting, and it was absolutely helping you feel better about everything that had happened. The compliments, the laughs, the warmth of your friends—it was like a balm to the hurt you had been carrying.

After a while, you started feeling parched from all the dancing, so you drifted away from the group to grab some water at the bar. As you reached the counter, you bumped into someone.

"Oh, I’m sorry," you yelped, turning quickly to see who it was you’d run into.

To your surprise, the body turned around, and there, standing in front of you, was Eli. Your stomach dropped slightly, expecting some snide remark, a cutting comment like the ones you’d heard before.

But instead, Eli let out a light laugh. "No problem!" they said with a smile, their tone unusually friendly.

You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected response. Even Spencer, standing next to Eli, looked just as surprised, his brow furrowed slightly at Eli’s easygoing attitude toward you.

"Uh… thanks," you said, forcing a polite smile, still not entirely sure what to make of the encounter.

Eli nodded, still smiling, before turning back to their drink, leaving you standing there, feeling slightly bewildered. You couldn’t help but glance at Spencer, who gave you a small, almost apologetic smile, as if to acknowledge how strange the moment had been.

The interaction left you feeling a bit off-kilter, but as you grabbed your water and headed back to the dance floor, you pushed the weirdness aside. Tonight was about you, about having fun and moving on. Whatever Eli’s sudden kindness meant, you weren’t going to let it throw you off track.

Soon, you couldn’t just brush off the strange interaction because, much to your surprise, Spencer and Eli joined the rest of you on the dance floor. It was a sight you hadn’t expected.

“Whoa, pretty boy! I didn’t think you’d show!” Derek cheered, clearly having invited Spencer without anyone else knowing.

Spencer gave a half-smile, looking awkward as he stood on the outskirts of the group. “Yeah, uh… Eli thought it would be fun,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his discomfort obvious.

“Well, loosen up, genius!” Emily called out, playfully nudging him. “We’re here to have fun.”

Eli, however, had no problem jumping right in, grabbing Spencer by the hips and guiding him into the rhythm of the music. Spencer’s movement was stilted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but Eli didn’t seem to mind, dancing all around him, their hands sliding over his shoulders and down his sides. The contrast between Spencer’s stiff posture and Eli’s free-spirited movements made for an interesting sight.

You tried to brush it off, but the more you watched, the more an odd sense of jealousy began to brew in your chest. It’s just because I’m newly single, you told yourself, trying to rationalize the pang of envy. But it didn’t feel that simple, and as you watched Eli spin Spencer with a grin, you couldn’t help but wonder why it bothered you so much.

Penelope noticed your mood shift immediately, her eyes following your gaze. She knew you too well, and it wasn’t long before she saw you slipping off the dance floor, making your way outside for some air. She wasn’t surprised at all—you needed a moment to clear your head.

What did surprise you, though, was when the door opened a few minutes later, and Spencer stepped out, his hands shoved into his pockets as he came to stand next to you. The cool night air felt refreshing against your heated skin, but Spencer’s presence made your heart race slightly, unsure of what to say or do.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence hanging between you like a thread waiting to be pulled.

“You okay?” Spencer finally asked, his voice soft as he looked at you, the concern clear in his expression.

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness in your chest. “Yeah, just needed some air. It was getting a little... crowded in there.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze drifting down the street before returning to you. “Yeah, I get that,” he said quietly. He shifted his weight, looking almost as uncomfortable out here as he did on the dance floor.

You glanced over at him, curiosity tugging at you. “You don’t really seem like a club guy,” you said, half teasing.

Spencer chuckled awkwardly, his shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “I’m not,” he admitted. “I, uh, don’t really dance. Eli’s more into that.”

You nodded, watching him for a moment. There was something in his eyes—something that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely thrilled to be out here either.

“Eli seems really into it,” you said, testing the waters, unsure why you even brought it up.

Spencer’s smile faltered for a split second before he nodded again. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice quieter this time. He didn’t elaborate, and the silence between you grew, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions that neither of you seemed ready to address.

After a moment, you decided to break the tension. “I didn’t expect to see you out tonight.”

Spencer chuckled softly, kicking at a loose pebble with his shoe. “I didn’t expect to be out, to be honest,” he admitted. “But, well... here I am.”

You smiled, feeling a strange connection in that shared sentiment. “Yeah, here we are.”

Spencer didn’t know why he followed you. Maybe it was the way you quietly slipped away from the group, or maybe it was something deeper—a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, like an invisible string pulling him after you. He had hesitated for a moment, glancing at Eli before deciding he needed to step outside.

“Hey, uh... is it okay if I step out for some air?” Spencer asked, trying to sound casual.

Eli’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to him. “With Y/N?” they asked, their tone neutral, but it made Spencer catch his breath, suddenly nervous that Eli might get upset in front of everyone.

Spencer swallowed hard. “Is that... okay?” he asked tentatively, trying to gauge Eli’s reaction.

Eli’s face softened, a sweet smile forming as they nodded. “Yeah, Spencie! Go check on your friend.”

Relief washed over Spencer, though a small knot of confusion lingered. Eli’s sudden sweetness left him feeling a bit unsettled, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he gave a small smile in return before quietly making his way outside to join you.

As he stood next to you in the cool night air, the questions he had about Eli faded, replaced by an inexplicable need to be there with you, to share this quiet moment away from the chaos of the night.

You and Spencer remained side by side, chatting politely, both enjoying the quiet reprieve from the crowd inside. The cool night air felt refreshing, a stark contrast to the warm chaos of the dance floor.

“Are you, uh—still seeing that person from the other week?” Spencer asked awkwardly, his words stumbling out as he glanced at you.

You stiffened slightly at the mention of Shane, the wound still fresh, not something you wanted to discuss right now, especially not here. "No," you said simply, hoping to leave it at that.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting away before he coughed. "Oh," he mumbled, then added, "I’m sorry. They’re an idiot."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of his words cutting through some of the lingering pain. "Thank you," you said softly, genuinely appreciating his attempt to comfort you.

Spencer nodded, and when he finally looked at you, something in his expression changed. His eyes locked with yours, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. He realized in that instant that what he felt looking into your eyes—this connection, this spark—was stronger than anything he’d ever felt with Eli. Every moment he had shared with Eli over the course of their relationship paled in comparison to what he felt standing there with you now.

The realization hit him like a tidal wave, both exhilarating and terrifying. He wasn’t sure what to do with this feeling, and the fear of what it meant gripped him tightly. Spencer wasn’t ready to confront it, but in that moment, he knew something had shifted between the two of you. And that scared him more than anything.

—

The next time you saw him, Eli was by his side once again. The team was gathered to celebrate Aaron Hotchner’s birthday with a fancy dinner followed by a play, and the atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and easy conversation. The dinner had been delicious, and everyone was in high spirits as you all made your way to the theater, excitement buzzing in the air.

Finding your seats, you realized the universe must have been playing some sort of twisted joke. The numbers on your tickets had placed you directly next to Spencer. It seemed innocent enough—JJ was on your other side, and Eli sat beside Spencer—but the proximity between you two felt charged in a way that was hard to ignore.

The lights dimmed, and the show began, captivating the audience almost immediately. You focused on the performance, but you had no idea that Spencer's mind was far from the stage. Since the moment you walked into the restaurant tonight, Spencer’s mind had been a chaotic kaleidoscope of images of you. The way you looked, the way you moved, the sound of your laugh—it was overwhelming.

Sitting so close to you now, he felt a primal, almost feral need stirring inside him, something he'd never experienced so intensely before. It was beyond mere attraction; it was hunger. He could barely focus on the play as his thoughts drifted to you again and again.

Spencer’s chest tightened with guilt as his mind began slipping away from innocent thoughts. At first, his musings were harmless, but they quickly escalated to PG-13, and then further, to places he had never allowed himself to go before. He couldn’t shake it, this wild, uncontrollable pull toward you. He wanted to tear his thoughts away, but every fiber of his being was hyper-aware of your presence next to him.

It was horrible—he felt like he was betraying Eli, even though the thoughts stayed locked inside his own head. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he tried to suppress the desire building within him. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not when Eli was sitting right next to him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the intense attraction coursing through his body. The guilt gnawed at him, but the desire burned even stronger.

He felt trapped, stuck between the relationship he had and the undeniable draw he felt toward you. And in that dark theater, surrounded by his friends, Spencer’s thoughts were anything but innocent.

During intermission, Spencer excused himself, practically fleeing to the restroom. Once there, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to wash away the guilty, indecent thoughts that had plagued him throughout the first half of the play. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, staring at his reflection, trying to regain control of himself.

Meanwhile, you headed to the concession stand, grabbing a lemonade. It came with a straw, which you twirled absentmindedly as you made your way back to your seat. You settled in, sipping slowly as everyone found their spots again.

When Spencer returned and sat next to you, he tried to focus on anything but you—the play, Eli, anything—but his eyes kept drifting to your lips as you wrapped them around the straw, sipping your drink. The way you casually sipped, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him, made his throat dry.

You noticed his lingering gaze and raised an eyebrow, suppressing a small smile. "Want a sip?" you offered, holding the drink out toward him, your voice teasing but light.

Spencer hesitated for a second, knowing that accepting it would be a bad idea. But then again, what harm could one sip do? "Sure," he replied, his voice low, almost strained.

Instead of taking the cup from your hand, Spencer leaned over, resting his hand lightly on your thigh as he bent toward you. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and your breath hitched as he brought his lips to the straw still clasped in your hand. He took a slow sip, his hand remaining firmly in place, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress.

Your face flushed a deep crimson, the simple act of him drinking from the same straw suddenly charged with an intimacy you hadn’t anticipated. You glanced quickly at Eli, but they were preoccupied, furiously typing away on their phone, not even noticing what was happening between you and Spencer.

As the lights flickered, signaling the end of intermission, Spencer pulled back, the drink slipping from his lips, but his hand stayed where it was, resting warmly on your thigh. The lights dimmed once more, and the play resumed, but Spencer’s touch remained, grounding you in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

Neither of you said a word, but the unspoken tension between you hung in the air, heavier than ever. You didn’t dare move, and neither did he. And as the minutes passed, you could feel the weight of that moment, the quiet acknowledgement that whatever was happening between you was more than just fleeting glances or stolen moments.

Spencer’s hand stayed on your thigh for the rest of the show, and you tried to rationalize it. It’s probably just the wine he had with dinner, you thought, convincing yourself he was just feeling a bit more friendly than usual. After all, the two of you had bonded that night at the club, and maybe this was just an extension of that. Still, the warmth of his hand lingered longer than it should have, sending ripples of confusion through you.

When the lights came back on and the play ended, you quickly stood, clapping in applause and efficiently removing Spencer’s hand from your leg. You didn’t want to dwell on it, but the moment left you feeling uneasy. As the theater cleared, the group gathered outside to say their goodbyes, but you found yourself avoiding Spencer’s gaze.

Leaning over to Penelope, you whispered, "I’m not feeling so great. I think I need to head out."

Concern flashed across her face, but she didn’t question you. "Of course, babe. Let’s go."

After wishing Aaron a happy birthday, you and Penelope left before you could make any eye contact with Spencer. Your thoughts raced as you hurried away, unsure why he had acted the way he did. You didn’t hate what had happened, and that made it worse. He has a partner, you reminded yourself, the guilt settling heavily in your chest.

Meanwhile, Spencer and Eli made their way home as well. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension, but when they arrived, Eli wasted no time initiating an intimate night. Spencer let it happen, going through the motions as his mind drifted back to you. He felt a surge of guilt and self-loathing. As Eli’s hands moved over him, Spencer’s thoughts were filled with the image of you, your laughter, the feel of your thigh beneath his palm. It made him feel like a monster, like he was betraying not only Eli, but you as well.

But what Spencer didn’t realize was that he wasn’t the only one with someone else on his mind. As Eli kissed him, their thoughts weren’t on Spencer either. The unspoken fractures in their relationship were growing wider, with both of them secretly imagining someone else, locked in a cycle of unaddressed desires and unvoiced doubts.

—

It was October now, and Halloween was rapidly approaching—Spencer's favorite time of year and his absolute favorite holiday. The excitement had been building for weeks, and it was palpable. He loved everything about Halloween—the history, the traditions, and, of course, the chance to dress up and lose himself in the festive spirit.

But as the holiday approached, so did the Halloween party you and Penelope were throwing. The entire team had been invited, along with their partners and a few other friends. It was going to be a night full of fun, laughter, and celebration, and you couldn't wait to show everyone the apartment, which was fully decked out in spooky decorations. 

Though you were looking forward to the party, there was one thought that kept crossing your mind: Spencer. He’d be there, of course, with Eli by his side. It was hard to shake the feeling that no matter how much time had passed since that strange, tension-filled evening at the theater, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The truth was, you knew you couldn’t have him—he was spoken for, and no matter what had happened or hadn’t happened, he was off-limits.

But that didn’t stop you from hoping your costume might catch his eye.

You’d spent extra time picking out the perfect outfit—something that was fun and playful, but with just enough edge to make an impression. Part of you wondered if he would notice, if he would look at you the way he had during the play. Even though you knew it was dangerous territory, the thought lingered in the back of your mind.

As you finished adjusting the final Halloween decorations, you glanced around the apartment, satisfied with how everything had turned out. The anticipation of the party and seeing everyone—especially Spencer—left a mix of excitement and nervousness brewing inside you.

One night, you thought. One night to celebrate, to have fun. Just let it be enough.

By the time people started arriving, your apartment had been fully transformed into a Halloween wonderland. The living room is draped in warm, spooky hues of purple and orange, with bats hanging from the ceiling and a wreath made of autumn leaves and tiny pumpkins framing the window. The couches are decorated with plush pillows and blankets, and a coffee table sits adorned with jack-o'-lanterns, flickering with eerie candlelight, surrounded by scattered fall leaves.

The hallway leading to the party area is wrapped in dark, twisting branches and shimmering orange lights, creating a haunting yet whimsical path. A skeleton sits at the dining table, illuminated by the warm glow of string lights that crisscross overhead, casting playful shadows along the walls.

Further in, an archway framed with grinning pumpkins welcomes guests into a dining area, bathed in the glow of purple lights. Jack-o'-lanterns of all shapes and sizes line the walls, giving the space a playful but eerie ambiance. It’s the kind of atmosphere that will make the party unforgettable, setting the perfect tone for the night.

You and Penelope stood by the door, greeting your guests as they entered your neon-lit, spooky apartment, handing out glowing necklaces as a fun touch to set the party's mood. Amid the excitement and stress of hosting, you nearly forgot that Spencer would be walking through that door any minute now. Your thoughts had been focused on making sure everything was perfect, greeting the steady stream of guests, and keeping the energy light and fun.

Just as you were handing another glowing necklace to a guest, the front door burst open, and in strolled Derek, as confident as ever, with Emily on one arm and JJ on the other. Emily looked striking in her sleek Morticia Addams costume, with her sharp features highlighted by her dark makeup, and JJ exuded playful fierceness in her Kill Bill-inspired outfit. Penelope, as usual, was a burst of color and creativity in her neon-pink, revealing Alice in Wonderland-esc cat costume.

Derek, dressed as a dashing fighter pilot, took one look at you and Penelope, his eyes wide with exaggerated awe. “Wow! My god, you gorgeous ladies are gonna give me a heart attack!” he playfully swooned, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. 

Penelope grinned, striking a pose next to you, her Cheshire cat grin almost matching the one she had painted on her face. "Careful, Morgan. You might need to be resuscitated."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange, but your heart fluttered slightly as you realized that any moment, Spencer would be walking in, and you wondered what he would think when he saw you in your costume.

The whole team had arrived about 20 minutes ago, with everyone dressed to impress, save for Spencer. You couldn’t help but worry he wasn’t going to come, despite his excitement about Halloween. You tried to stay positive, especially since everyone else seemed to be in good spirits. Even Hotch and Rossi had put in some effort, dressing up as Men in Black, though it was hardly a stretch from their usual look—very creative you thought with a smirk.

The party had started in full swing, laughter and music filling the room, but you couldn’t shake the slight disappointment. What if he doesn’t show?

Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Without thinking, you crossed the room and swung it open, your jaw practically hitting the floor when you saw who was standing on the other side.

There, in all his unnervingly handsome glory, was Spencer—no Eli in sight. He was dressed as Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, complete with a suit, raincoat, and an ax slung over his shoulder. His normally disheveled hair was slicked back, and the blood splatter across his face made him look dangerously alluring. You could feel your heart stutter in your chest.

You stood there with your hand still on the door, staring at him for far too long to be socially acceptable. But Spencer wasn’t faring much better. His eyes had widened when he saw you in your Ghostface costume—though this was your take of the infamous killer, your fitted corset and thigh-high slit showing more than enough to leave Spencer speechless.

His lips parted slightly, the two of you caught in an awkward, electrifying silence. Neither of you moved or spoke, both seemingly frozen in the moment. You tried to find something to say, but your brain refused to cooperate. He looked breathtaking, and from the look in his eyes, you were certain he thought the same about you.

"Uh… wow," Spencer finally managed, his voice low, almost reverent.

You blinked, snapping out of your trance and feeling your cheeks heat up. "Spencer… you… look…" You trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes roamed over his form again.

"Yeah," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your costume. "You too." He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly but never taking his eyes off you.

You stepped aside, finally remembering your manners. "Come in," you said, your voice breathless.

As he walked past you, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Tonight was going to be interesting.

“Boy wonder!” Penelope squealed as she caught sight of Spencer walking into the party. Her arms flung open dramatically before pulling him into a big squeeze. 

"Hey, Pen, great party!" Spencer laughed, his voice warm as he returned her embrace.

JJ approached, tilting her head curiously. "Where’s Eli?"

Spencer didn’t seem fazed by the question as he shrugged casually. "Oh, their friend is having a party tonight too. They might stop by later, but I wouldn’t count on it," he replied with a small laugh, seemingly unbothered by Eli’s absence.

Derek, being a sharp observer of Spencer’s moods, raised an eyebrow. “...And you’re cool with this?”

Spencer just smiled brightly, brushing it off with a light chuckle. “Yup! We don’t have to do everything together.” He laughed again, the sound easygoing and relaxed.

Everyone seemed to accept his answer, nodding along before the party really began to kick into gear. Laughter and conversation flowed easily around the room, the energy of the Halloween festivities keeping everyone entertained.

But despite the natural rhythm of the night, you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Something about Spencer seemed off—not in a bad way, but different. He seemed almost too happy that Eli hadn’t joined him. There was something about his energy, a lightness that hadn’t been there before, and the more you watched him throughout the evening, the more you wondered what was really going on beneath that bright smile of his.

You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when the sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention. Without hesitation, you glanced over your shoulder and saw Spencer standing there. Instinctively, you turned to face him, not wanting to give him the chance to sneak up on you.

"Hello, Spencer," you greeted with a warm smile, trying to mask the sudden nervous energy that surged through you.

"Y/N," he nodded, stepping a little closer. "You know, maybe we should team up. Might make things easier," he added with a smirk, his costume and demeanor making him look every bit the psycho he was dressed as. The sight of him like that sent your heart racing, and to your dismay, you found yourself stuttering.

"Wh–what? You, an–an–me?"

Spencer just laughed, the sound low and amused. "Ghostface and Patrick Bateman? We’d make quite the team."

You chuckled nervously, trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach. "Oh, hah, yeah, you’re right. So, um, who’s our first victim?" you asked, playing along with the joke.

Spencer rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm… I’d say we start with the Men in Black. Take out the authority first."

You couldn’t help it—the laugh that erupted from you was genuine and loud, a real cackle that caught you off guard. You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by how loud it was.

But before you could fully hide, Spencer reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, lowering your hand. "Don’t cover up," he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. "I like your laugh."

His touch sent a warm shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted into something heavier, something unspoken hanging between you both. You smiled, the blush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the sudden intimacy.

"Thanks," you murmured, your heart thudding in your chest, the moment feeling far more charged than a simple Halloween joke should have been.

You cleared your throat, turning back to focus on your drink, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "So, um, how do we take them out?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation light and playful.

Spencer tapped his chin in mock thought before flashing you a mischievous smirk. "Let's make it a game," he said, his voice low, adding to the playful tension between you. "We have to turn off their glowing necklaces without them noticing. If you’re successful, you get a point. Most points by the end of the night wins."

You grinned at the idea, nodding in agreement. "Alright, you’re on."

And just like that, the game began. You and Spencer spent the rest of the evening sneaking around the party, laughing and conspiring together like mischievous children. You’d catch each other’s eye from across the room, silently plotting, and then spring into action, working to stealthily turn off people’s glowing necklaces without them noticing.

Every time one of you was successful, you’d stifle giggles, slipping back into the crowd with a triumphant grin. The whole dynamic between you and Spencer had shifted into something new—something light, fun, and undeniably flirtatious. Your shared laughter echoed through the room, drawing the attention of the other guests.

It didn’t take long for people to notice the change. Derek raised an eyebrow at the two of you, watching as you and Spencer darted around with smiles and whispered jokes. JJ and Emily exchanged knowing glances, clearly curious about this unexpected shift in your relationship. Even Penelope caught on, throwing you a sly look that said she’d definitely be asking you about this later.

Everyone seemed to be wondering the same thing: Since when did these two get along so well?

But you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you were having fun—real fun—with Spencer. And, despite the attention from everyone else, you weren’t ready for it to stop.

—

As the night wrapped up, the energy was still buzzing. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, and the party had been a huge success. You felt a sense of pride as you waved goodbye to your guests, making sure everyone had a designated driver or had called a cab. Once the last person had left, you closed the door, feeling the peaceful silence settle in.

But the quiet didn’t last long.

Penelope wasted no time, immediately bombarding you with questions, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Okay, spill! What was that? You and Boy Wonder sneaking around, giggling like a couple of high schoolers? Since when are you and Spencer all… flirty?!"

You laughed, still riding the high of the evening, but you could see the concern in Penelope’s eyes. She leaned in closer, her expression softening as she lowered her voice. "Look, I loved seeing you have fun tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that," she admitted, "but I just want you to be careful. Spencer and Eli seem very happy together, and I don’t want you getting hurt."

You hesitated, knowing she was right. "I know, Pen," you sighed. "It’s just… it was harmless fun, you know? Nothing serious."

Penelope gave you a look, the one that said she wasn’t buying it. "I just don’t want you caught up in something messy," she said softly. "You deserve someone who’s all in, not someone who’s already got someone else."

You nodded, appreciating her concern, but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the way Spencer had looked at you tonight, the way you’d both laughed together like nothing else mattered.

Meanwhile, Spencer drove home in silence, not having had a single drink all night. His mind was still racing from the party, the memories of sneaking around with you and laughing filling his head. The evening had been… unexpected. He couldn’t deny that he’d had fun, maybe more fun than he’d had in a while.

When he pulled into the parking garage, he noticed Eli’s car wasn’t there. He assumed they were still out, maybe spending the night at their friend’s place. It wasn’t unusual for Eli to stay out late when they were with friends, and Spencer didn’t give it much thought as he unlocked the front door and walked inside.

He moved through the apartment quietly, heading down the hall to the bedroom. But what he didn’t expect—what stopped him dead in his tracks—was the sight that greeted him when he opened the bedroom door.

There, in his bed, was Eli. And they weren’t alone.

It took a moment for Spencer’s brain to register what he was seeing, but when it did, the shock hit him like a tidal wave. The person with Eli—the one tangled up in the sheets, very clearly entwined with his partner—was none other than Shane, the same person who had taken you on a date.

His heart pounded in his chest as the weight of the betrayal sank in, the scene before him twisting his stomach into knots.

Shane looked up at the sound of the door opening, pulling away from Eli and quickly covering both of them with the blankets, their face contorting into a mix of shock and confusion.

“What the hell?” Shane yelled, voice panicked.

That finally snapped Spencer out of his state of shock. “What the hell? What the hell! Get out of my fucking bed!” he screamed, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

“Your bed?” Shane’s face instantly fell, their eyes darting to Eli, whose expression was now cold, almost indifferent. “Are you married?” Shane asked, their voice trembling with fear and disbelief.

Eli scoffed, pushing themselves out of bed, making no effort to cover up. “No,” they said with a lazy shrug, “this is Spencer.”

“And who is Spencer?” Shane asked, sounding utterly heartbroken.

Spencer’s voice trembled with emotion as he stood frozen in the doorway, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yeah, Eli... who is Spencer?”

Eli rolled their eyes, casually pulling on a robe, unfazed by the entire situation. “My partner,” they said dismissively, as if it meant nothing.

“What?” Shane cried out, turning to Spencer, tears streaming down their face. “I am so sorry, I had no idea. We—we’ve been seeing each other for weeks.” Shane’s voice cracked with guilt and devastation.

Spencer felt like he should have been more hurt by the revelation, but the truth was, Shane’s emotional investment was far greater than his own. He saw now why Eli had been so suddenly attentive and kind—there had been someone else.

“It’s—it’s fine,” Spencer muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to keep it together. “I’ll, um, I’ll stay somewhere else tonight. Eli, let’s talk later, okay?”

Eli just nodded, entirely unaffected. “Cool.”

With that, Spencer grabbed a few things and left the apartment, feeling numb and hollow.

��

Back at your place, you and Penelope were still sitting on the couch, talking about the party, when there was a sudden knock at the door. You exchanged a curious look, not expecting anyone else to stop by at this hour.

Penelope shot up, tiptoeing over to the door and peeking through the peephole. She gasped loudly before rushing back to you, whispering in a hurried panic, “It’s Spencer!” And then, without any warning, she dashed off to her bedroom, the unmistakable sound of the door locking echoing through the apartment.

You let out a long sigh, standing up and making your way over to the door, wondering what could have brought Spencer here so late. You expected him to say he’d forgotten his phone or maybe just needed something small.

But when you opened the door, Spencer didn’t say a word.

He didn’t ask for anything, didn’t explain himself. Instead, he stepped forward, his eyes heavy with emotion, and before you could even react, he reached out, grabbing your face gently but with a sense of urgency. Then, without hesitation, Spencer pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both desperate and full of longing.

The world seemed to stop in that moment, your heart pounding as the warmth of his lips consumed you, every thought and question vanishing into the kiss.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[princessofgondor]

the lord of the rings characters + cuddling with them 🩷

Characters Included: Boromir, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwen, Éowyn, Éomer, Legolas, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry

I decided I wanted to try doing some LOTR preferences! This is my first time writing for all of these characters besides Boromir so I’m still getting a handle on them. If anyone has any requests for preference posts they’d like to see, please send them my way and I’ll see what I can do!!

Author has only seen the movies, so please forgive any mistakes/inaccuracies!

Boromir is definitely pretty touch-starved, and after cuddling with you for the first time he’s very surprised how much he loves it. It becomes a common occurrence for the two of you, something he looks forward to — especially after a long day of training with his soldiers. He loves being the big spoon, and burying his face in your hair or your neck.

Faramir is a big cuddler for sure. You don’t even need to ask — as soon as you rest your head on his shoulder (when you’re sitting together) or on his chest (when you’re laying down together), he’s got his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. He gives you a lot of forehead kisses when you’re cuddling together.

Aragorn loves the moments where the two of you can just relax together, especially when things are getting stressful. He’s happy for the two of you to simply lay there in silence, holding each other, but if you need to talk about anything he’s always ready to listen.

Arwen has an incredibly calming presence, and cuddling with her can improve your mood no matter how bad you were feeling beforehand. She holds you close, whispering comforting words in your ear and pressing gentle kisses to your face and lips every so often.

Éowyn isn’t used to cuddling, but like Boromir she comes to really enjoy it. You make her feel peaceful and happy in a way that she’s never experienced before, and so she loves to be close to you as often as possible. She has a tendency to play with your hair, and she likes it when you do the same to her.

At first, Éomer tries to look tough and doesn’t admit how much he likes cuddling with you. But each time, it becomes increasingly obvious how much he loves it. Similar to Éowyn, he likes it when you play with his hair.

Legolas finds it adorable how much you love to cuddle with him, especially when you get cold. As an Elf he can’t feel the cold, but he can always tell that the temperature is dropping when you cuddle up to him. He’s perfectly happy to stay bundled up with you for as long as you need him there.

Frodo loves when the two of you cuddle up while reading a book together, though sometimes he gets distracted from the words on the page because he’s looking at you. If this is after the main events of LOTR, I could see your presence/touch being able to help Frodo heal from his traumatic experiences, at least somewhat.

Sam is incredibly affectionate, so he definitely loves cuddling. He’s a bit shy about it at first, getting a bit embarrassed and not knowing what he should be doing — like where should his arms/hands be? He doesn’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable — but once he’s used to it, it’s his favourite thing in the world.

Pippin absolutely loves cuddling with you and he doesn’t care who knows it. Honestly, if he could spend his entire life cuddled up with you and some snacks then he’d be the happiest Hobbit who ever lived. It doesn’t matter where you are, if you’re near each other he’ll want to either have his arms around you or be resting against you.

I think that like Pippin, Merry loves cuddling, but he’s a little less likely to do it publicly. When it’s just the two of you however he loves nothing more than being close to you. He probably makes little jokes and lightly teases you for being so eager to cuddle with him, but it’s all very light-hearted and you know that he loves it too.